


Like Fire Burning in My Heart

by aliZ77



Category: Law & Order: SVU
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, Hurt/Comfort, Injury Recovery, M/M, Major Character Injury, Minor Violence, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Psychological Trauma, Recovery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-03
Updated: 2021-01-07
Packaged: 2021-03-12 20:14:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 23,814
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28516233
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aliZ77/pseuds/aliZ77
Summary: Rafael and Sonny go through their biggest challenge yet.
Relationships: Rafael Barba/Dominick "Sonny" Carisi Jr.
Comments: 13
Kudos: 53





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! I've never posted any of my writing before. Can't say I'm particularly proud of this, but it's been a goal of mine to get something out there. I hope you enjoy. Also, in this universe, "that episode" with Barba never happened, and he left the D.A.'s office for bigger things :)

Chapter 1: _Like fire burning in my heart_

I say to myself, I will not mention him,

I will speak in his name no more.

But then it becomes like fire burning in my heart,

imprisoned in my bones;

I grow weary holding it in, I cannot endure it.

_Jeremiah 20:9_

It was surprisingly brisk for a July night: a sure sign of a cold front coming in. The guest lecture had been fascinating.

“Are we nerds?” Sonny asked as they stepped out of the Columbia University lecture hall.

Rafael chuckled, intertwining Sonny’s fingers with his. “What do you mean?”

“Going to a guest seminar on international law is our idea of a date night.”

Rafael huffed and smiled at him. “I guess we’re nerds. But date night isn’t over yet, my love.” He raised his eyebrows suggestively. “Should we get a taxi?”

“No, let’s walk. It’s a beautiful night, Rafi,” Sonny replied, swinging their conjoined hands.

“I thought the seminar was fascinating. She really knew what she was talking about. It’s amazing how progressive the courts are becoming in…” Rafael rambled as they strolled south through Manhattan Valley to their apartment on the Upper West Side.

Sonny loved to listen to Rafael talk about his passions, but at this moment, he couldn’t focus. Something felt… off. Like the universe was revving up for something to happen. Maybe it was the stress. The anxiety. His job at the D.A.’s office was picking up speed and his caseload felt never-ending.

Then there was Rafael, whose presence assuaged 99 percent of Sonny’s worry. Rafael, who was flourishing after adjusting to his new position as a federal prosecutor. Rafael, who loved Sonny, who shared his space, himself, with him. Sonny was so lucky. So why did something feel wrong?

“… I think we should take a trip to New Zealand. I know it’s a long flight, but wow, the scenery would be worth it. You could see all the _Lord of the Rings_ stuff,” Rafael continued, steady in his course. He squeezed his boyfriend’s hand and looked up at him. “You like _The Lord of the Rings_ , don’t you? I can’t remember.” He loosened his grip, noticing that he was not being heard. “Sonny?”

“Hmm?” he replied. His eyes fluctuated between staring at the sidewalk and glancing around from all angles like a meerkat.

“Are you listening to me?”

Sonny huffed, finally making eye contact with his partner. “Sorry. My mind’s somewhere else.”

“Oh yeah?” Rafael squeezed his hand again. “Where?”

“I don’t know.” Sonny poked his head around like a meerkat once more.

“What?” Rafael asked, slightly annoyed, turning to look behind them.

“Do you feel like we’re being followed?” Sonny asked. Rafael glanced back again, only noticing a few groups and solo walkers. The vehicle traffic had died down as they ventured further south, but nothing felt suspicious. Then again, Rafael always felt safe when he was with Sonny.

“We’re not being followed,” he assured.

They strode together quietly for a few more paces before Sonny said, “Gosh, I’m losing it, aren’t I?”

“No, you’re just thinking like a cop, is all. Always on the lookout for danger. You’re under too much stress.”

“Hmm. Maybe a vacation _is_ in order.”

Rafael grinned, making eye contact. “That’s what I’m saying! You, me, and some kiwis and hobbits.”

Sonny was about to grin in response when a shrill shriek sounded from an alley across the street. Sonny immediately dropped Rafael’s hand.

“Did you hear that?” he asked, on high alert. He waited for a car to pass before speed walking across the street. Rafael followed, flustered.

“Yes, I heard that. Sonny, _wait_!” He caught up to him and grabbed his arm. Sonny ignored him, continuing towards the alley. A few whimpers and a “ _get off of me!_ ” came from what seemed to be a female voice.

They made it to the dark and narrow side street, and Sonny quickly shook out of Rafael’s grip and turned towards him. “Call 911,” he said, and rushed deeper into the dark.

It took Rafael’s eyes a minute to adjust to the change of light, and it took his mind a minute to realize what Sonny was saying.

A man had a young woman cornered against a brick wall. He held a baseball bat, threateningly, and his other hand switched between gripping the woman’s hair and groping her ass. Her purse was strewn at her feet. That wasn’t what he was after.

“Hey! Get off her!” Sonny yelled as he ran towards the assailant. He grabbed the man by the shoulders and pulled him away from the woman. She yelped, grabbed her purse, and ran towards Rafael, who was working on dialing 911.

“Help me, please, he just attacked me!” she shrieked softly, latching onto Rafael’s shirt with her fingernails.

“Fuck you!” The assailant cried, pushing back against Sonny and turning around. The man gave Sonny a good shove, and the next moment Rafael looked up from his phone, Sonny was on the ground, on the receiving end of a kick to the ribs. Sonny gripped his side with a cough and tried to get his bearings. The assailant was faster, however, and wound up his arms, swinging the baseball bat over his head and straight at Sonny’s skull. Rafael screamed, pushing the distressed woman off of him.

“Fuck!” the man yelled, swinging the bat up again, “You!” And the bat hit Sonny’s head once more with a resounding, hollow _crack_.

Rafael put his dialing phone into the woman’s hand and sprinted towards his boyfriend. As he approached, the attacker dropped the bat and fled down the alley, but Rafael didn’t care. When he got closer, he could see Sonny, on his side with his knees curled up, hands attempting to protect his face. He was rocking slightly, trembling in a way of pure distress.

“Sonny, Sonny, are you all right?” He crouched beside him. All Rafael could see was the bloody gash on the left side of Sonny’s head and the twitching of his facial muscles. “It’s okay honey, it’s okay, the paramedics are on their way. Right?” The distressed woman was behind him now, clearly in shock, but nodded as she continued to talk to the emergency dispatcher on Rafael’s phone.

Sonny’s eyelids fluttered for a moment, and his eyes locked into contact with Rafael’s, before they rolled back into his head.

Rafael panicked. “No no no, Sonny. Keep your eyes open. You’re all right.” He could hear sirens in the distance. He felt woozy. A small crowd was beginning to form. He stroked his boyfriend’s hair in an attempt to soothe, only for his palm to become saturated with blood. “Damn it,” he said, wiping it on his jeans. “It’s gonna be fine. You’re going to be fine.” He looked at Sonny’s ribcage. He was still breathing. Good.

Lights from emergency vehicles flashed into the alley, disorienting Rafael. He noticed a few onlookers directing the paramedics toward him. Police officers wove through the crowd. Before he knew it, a female paramedic was crouched beside him, attempting to pull him up.

“What happened?” she asked, observing every detail. Her partner knelt on the other side of Sonny with a bag of supplies.

“He—" Rafael’s voice cracked. “He tried to stop a guy from attacking that girl. The guy pushed him down, knocked him in the head with a baseball bat. Twice.”

She nodded to her partner, who rushed back towards the ambulance, motioning for the crew wheeling a gurney to hurry it up. “Has he been conscious at all?”

“No, he’s just been shaking. I don’t think he’s stopped breathing.”

“Okay, that’s good. We got it from here, all right? We need you to step back so we can help him.”

Against all of Rafael’s instincts, he stepped back, watching the EMTs descend upon his boyfriend. He couldn’t hear them, he couldn’t think. All he could see was the blood, leaking next to Sonny’s temple, out of his ear, and crusted on his own hands.

A uniformed police officer touched his shoulder, making him flinch.

“Excuse me sir, we need to know what happened here.”

So Rafael gave them a shaky statement, being as succinct as possible, all while keeping an eye on his boyfriend. He tried to swallow his panic as they moved him onto the stretcher and began to bring him towards the ambulance.

The police officer was saying something, but Rafael interrupted callously. “I need to be with him. He’s my partner. He’s a Manhattan assistant district attorney. Sex crimes. And I’m a federal prosecutor. Certainly, you’ll understand that we’ll be as cooperative as possible.” The young police officer’s mouth gaped, but he acquiesced, even walking with Rafael to the back of the ambulance.

Before he could reach the ambulance, however, an EMT pulled Rafael to the side where another ambulance was parked and open.

“Sir, we need to get you checked out. You’re in shock. Are you hurt?” the paramedic asked. He assumed he must _appear_ hurt; he was covered in Sonny’s blood. She sat him down on the back of the vehicle and measured his pulse. It was definitely too fast; Rafael knew that much.

“Please, I’m fine, I just need to be with him.” He tried to stand, but the paramedic gently prevented him from doing so. She was a bit older than the last female paramedic he had interacted with and had a soft authority about her. He reminded him of his mother, so he had to listen.

“Don’t worry, you’ll be right behind him, I promise.” She produced a blood pressure cuff out of nowhere and continued her work.

Rafael released a shaky sigh and watched the ambulance containing his love speed away with lights and sirens blaring. Tears flowed down his face; he couldn’t stop them. It was going to be a long night.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

He uncovers the deeps out of darkness,

and brings deep darkness to light.

He makes nations great, then destroys them;

he enlarges nations, then leads them away.

He strips understanding from the leaders of the earth,

and makes them wander in a pathless waste.

They grope in the dark without light;

he makes them stagger like a drunkard.

_Job 12:22-25_

Rafael Barba sat in an uncomfortable waiting room chair in Mt. Sinai Morningside’s emergency department. His chin rested in his now-clean palm. He was thinking about both everything and nothing. It was four in the morning—an hour when his brain refused to function. It had been five hours since a baseball bat crashed into his boyfriend’s skull. Five hours since Rafael was cleared by paramedics and was given a ride to the hospital by uniformed police officers. Four hours since a disgruntled nurse told him to stay put and they’d keep him updated—that Sonny was going for a CT scan.

“Are you Mr. Barba? Here for Dominick Carisi?” a woman wearing a white coat asked him after approaching. She was in her mid-fifties, her dark hair done in intricate braids. She looked worn, most likely from years and years of talking to distressed patients and their families at all hours of the night.

Rafael nodded, lifting his head, struck from his daze.

She sat down in an equally uncomfortable chair next to him. “I’m Dr. Adarsh. I’m a trauma neurologist. I took on your partner’s case a few hours ago, and I’m sorry that we couldn’t update you sooner.” She paused, waiting for a response. All Rafael could do was nod, so she continued, “Dominick came into our E.R. with a Glasgow Coma Scale score of about 7, indicating a severe head trauma. He had no eye response, some verbal mumbling, and was responding to painful stimuli. With a score that low, we decided to intubate him to help him breathe.”

That woke Rafael up. “What?” he interrupted. “He was breathing fine, I thought.”

She offered him a small smile. “Fortunately, he was in control of his breathing, yes, but we intubate at that level of unconsciousness as a preventative measure, in case he loses control of his facilities,” she replied. “He is sedated and intubated now, in transport to the neuro ICU. We’ll keep him intubated for the next few hours, pending a drastic change to his condition. His CT scan showed a skull fracture and two brain contusions, typical for a crushing brain injury. I don’t see a need to take him to surgery at this time, and I have been working together with a neurosurgeon to monitor this.”

“Surgery? What would the surgery be for?”

“Sometimes, with skull fractures and bruises to the brain, there is significant swelling that has nowhere to go, and surgeons have to operate to relieve that pressure. If a large blood clot forms, that could also need to be removed.”

Rafael paled. “Oh my God,” he murmured.

She placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder. “Remember that right now, this is not looking like it will be needed. It’s touch and go, but you need to remain positive.”

“Is he going to be okay?” he finally asked. He just needed her to tell it to him straight.

“Like I said, he’s not out of the woods. I’ll be honest with you. We won’t know the extent of the neurological damage until he becomes more responsive. We did have to increase his sedation right before his CT so that he’d stay still. I’m predicting that he will not be in a long-term unconscious state, and hopefully we can extubate by this afternoon.” She gave him a small smile, and then stood up. “Once he’s settled upstairs, I’ll have someone bring you up to our ICU waiting room, and you can see him.”

“How long will that be?” He looked up at her.

“About an hour.” Her pager went off, and she glanced at it, before saying, “I’ll be sure to update you again as soon as I can.”

Before Rafael could utter a “thank you,” she was gone, and he was left to slump back into his chair. Ghosts of what Dr. Adarsh said were on repeat in his mind. _Crushing brain injury? Two contusions? Skull fracture?_

After a few minutes (or hours, who could tell?) of tiredly wallowing in his uncomfortable chair, Rafael heard a familiar tread of sensible work shoes coming towards him on the tiled floor.

“Liv,” he whispered, shocked as Captain Olivia Benson sat next to him, immediately enveloping him in her arms.

“Rafa,” she murmured after breaking the embrace. “I heard what happened. Are you all right?”

“Am I all right?” he scoffed. “Why are you here? How did you hear about this?”

She smiled sadly. “I’m a police captain. Word that an ADA was attacked goes around fast.”

He supposed she was right, so he nodded. “He’s really hurt, Liv.”

“What happened?” She grabbed his hand. The hand that was holding Sonny’s, in what felt like another life.

Rafael sniffled. So far, he’d kept his resolve since arriving at the hospital, but now, with the comfort of a friend and a listening ear, he could feel himself breaking. “A doctor spoke with me a little bit ago. They’re putting him in the ICU. He has a skull fracture and some brain contusions, whatever the fuck those are,” he said with a quiet bite.

“Shit,” she said, bringing her unoccupied hand to cover her mouth. She looked at him sympathetically, like he was a victim, and he felt encouraged to continue, to tell the story.

“We were walking home. Sonny said he felt like something was off. You know how he gets. Then there was a scream from an alley, and a woman was being… _groped_ by a man, harassing her. Sonny ran up and pulled him off of her.”

“That sounds like Carisi,” she chuckled softly. “Of course he would step in.”

Rafael swallowed. “Somehow this man got him on the ground. He… got him in the head with a baseball bat. The _sound_ Liv… I can’t. I can’t even think about… I thought for sure he was...” Rafael shrunk down, putting his head in his hands, sobbing silently without tears.

Olivia rubbed his back, unsure of what to say. “He’ll be okay, Rafael. He has to be. He’s a fighter.”

Rafael sniffled and sat up. “I know. I hope so.”

After taking his hand again, Olivia asked, “Have you talked to any of his family members yet?”

“Shit,” he gasped. “I just… forgot about them. What kind of person am I?” He could feel himself descend into a state of panic.

“It’s all right. It’s fine,” Olivia said, meeting her friend’s eyes. “You were in shock. You went through quite an ordeal. They’ll understand. How about his parents? That’s a good place to start.”

Rafael shook his head. “No, they’re in Asia, for Christ’s sake, on a monthlong trip. I wouldn’t even know where to begin to get in contact with them.”

Olivia expected him to keep talking, to reason through to the next step. Clearly, her friend wasn’t thinking straight. “How about one of his sisters?” she provided.

“Yeah, okay,” he replied. “Bella. She’ll be the easiest to talk to.” He pulled out his phone, which he managed to retrieve from the initial assault victim earlier. It felt strange in his hands. Unfamiliar, yet it was tangible; it grounded him, somewhat. “Wait, what do I even say?” he asked after pulling up Bella’s number.  
“Just tell her Sonny’s in the hospital, but don’t try to make her panic. Have her spread the word.” Olivia knew what she was talking about. She’d made dozens of these types of calls through the years. “His family’s gonna want to be here.”

Rafael’s face fell. “Yeah, in case it’s the last time they see him.”

Olivia glared at him- not unkindly, but knowingly. “Not like that, Rafa. You said it yourself, he’s hurt. They’re his family, same as you, and they’ll want to be here, especially if he’s in the ICU.”

Finally, he nodded and dialed. It went to voicemail. It was nearly five in the morning, after all, and Bella had two young kids. The voicemail tone beeped. He knew his voice would shake, but he spoke anyway:

“Hi Bella, it’s Rafael. Listen, Sonny’s hurt. We’re at the hospital. Call me when you get this.” He hung up, and Liv squeezed his hand reassuringly.

“It’s going to be okay. He’s going to be okay,” she said, as Rafael sunk back in his seat, feeling himself retreat into his thoughts again.

Half an hour later, a young nurse led Olivia and Rafael to a waiting room next to two clear automatic doors labeled “Neuro Intensive Care Unit.”

“Mr. Barba, if you would like, you can see him now,” the nurse, Bethany, said. He looked back at Liv, who nodded and sat down.

He followed Bethany through the double doors into the unit, which had a dozen or so beds sanctioned off into private rooms. The walls to each room had a floor-to-ceiling clear window, allowing the nurse’s station at the center a full view of every patient. The nurse explained the rules of the ICU as they walked, but Rafael had trouble focusing. _Sonny_ was all he could think about.

She brought him to the third room on the left, and there he was. Rafael stopped in his tracks. _Sonny_. Rafael’s bright, glowing boyfriend was there, despite losing both of those qualities. He looked pale and thin, and a tube popped out of his mouth, held down by tape. The left side of his head and his ear were heavily bandaged. There were wires and tubes coming out all over him, tucked away neatly to various beeping machines. Bethany, noticing his pause, guided him to a chair near the side of the bed.

“He’s becoming more responsive every hour,” she said as Rafael sat down. He couldn’t stop looking at him. Sonny, his love, reduced to this.

Once Rafael got over his initial shock, the nurse began to explain to him the various devices around the room. He made sure to listen, because if this was an extended stay, he wanted to know everything that was going on. Notably, there were the electrodes stuck to his head, attached to an EEG machine that measured brain activity. There was an IV pump, a pulse oximeter on his finger, and a monitor for heart rate and other vitals. Then there was, of course, the ventilator, which Rafael tried to ignore as much as possible.

“And this is an ICP monitor,” Bethany stated, pointing to a small probe on the right side of Sonny’s head. “It’s inserted through the skull to measure pressure on the brain. So far, his levels have been acceptable, but it’s important for us to keep an eye on it.”

_Inserted through the skull?_ Rafael widened his eyes.

Seeing his concern, she put her hand on his shoulder. _God, he was receiving way too many comforting gestures lately_. “Rounds are in” –she checked her watch- “an hour. At seven. When they come, we’ll ask you to go back to the waiting room. Until then, you can sit here with him. We’ll be floating around.” She smiled. “Talk to him; it helps,” she said before squeezing Rafael’s shoulder and exiting.

For once, he didn’t know what to say. He watched the steady rise and fall of Sonny’s chest, trying to forget it was being regulated by a machine. He let himself be soothed by the beeping of the heart monitor, by the movement of the lines that indicated brain activity. He scooted closer, gripping his boyfriend’s hand, the only part of his body he wasn’t afraid to touch.

“You’re going to be all right, my love,” he whispered, fighting back the urge to stroke Sonny’s disheveled gray curls. “We’re going to be all right. No matter what happens. I love you.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize in advance. This is the most stereotypical "waking up in a hospital" situation ever written.

Chapter 3

And now, O Lord, what do I wait for?

My hope is in you.

Deliver me from all my transgressions.

Do not make me the scorn of the fool.

_Psalm 39:7-8_

The darkness was intoxicating. It enveloped him like a warm, weighted blanket. It was solid, it was safe, but there was something outside. A sky appeared, blue and brimming through the blackness. He wanted to reach it. He wanted to see it. Feel it. He felt underwater… there were sounds in the distance. Muffled, coming from his right side. Soft and low.

_Beep… beep… beep… tsssssk… beep… beep…_

It was gradually getting louder, but not loud enough. He couldn’t pick it out.

_Tssssk…_

Slowly he came back to his senses. He could feel his body: his legs, his shoulders, his face. Eyelids, that’s what he needed. He tried to open them. Slowly, surely. He imagined it was a Sunday, that Rafael was snuggled against him, and he wanted to see him. He swore he could smell him, could sense his presence. He could practically hear his gentle snore.

Finally, he opened his eyes, wearily. Without moving his head, he glanced to his right. There were a few machines. Hospital machines. Was he in a hospital?

To his left, there was a figure, slumped back in a sitting position. He squinted, trying to focus. The figure became less blurry as he stared.

_Rafael_ , of course. His dark hair was getting long. He was asleep with his chin in his palm. He looked cute. Sonny wanted to touch him, to reach out…

He tried to move his left hand, but it was quickly stopped. He tried to look down at it, but his head was so, so heavy. When he finally got a look, he saw a band of white wrapped around his wrist. A restraint? What did he do?

Suddenly, he became aware of his breathing. It felt… off. Was something in his mouth? Yeah, something was in his mouth. Breathing for him. Great, he was intubated. He tried to calm down, to slow his breathing. He focused on Rafi, keeping his breath in sync with his. He wanted him to wake up, to see him. He wasn’t a particularly needy boyfriend, but he needed this now. He needed to know he was real. With a deep inhale, he flexed his left wrist, curled his fingers, and snapped them twice. That effort was enough to exhaust him.

Rafael stirred, waking up. “Sonny?” he murmured.

Rafael swore he must’ve been dreaming, because there, lying in the hospital bed, intubated and undoubtably zonked out on painkillers and sedatives, his boyfriend was looking up at him, eyes open.

Sonny’s eyes glanced back and forth, clearly worried.

Rafael gently grabbed Sonny’s hand, frowning at the restraint. A couple of hours ago, Sonny had started to wiggle around a bit, trying to bring his hands to his face. The nurses assured him this was a better, safer option, in case he broke through the sedation and inadvertently hurt himself. Still, Rafael didn’t like it. It made him feel like Sonny was a prisoner.

“You’re all right, Sonny, you’re going to be just fine,” he said firmly. “We’re in the hospital. You hurt your head.”

Sonny didn’t stop looking at him, but he wasn’t quite making eye contact. He didn’t seem to register what Rafael was saying, but he calmed down a bit, nonetheless. Rafael calmed down, too, and looked around, trying to catch the eye of a nurse.

“I’m here, Sonny. I’m right here, and you’re going to be all right,” he continued. As he spoke again, Sonny appeared to become more tense. His breathing sped up, and the frequency of the beeps from the heart monitor increased dramatically. He shook his shoulders a little bit, pulling at the restraints.

“No, stop that. You’re fine. Just stay still.” Rafael tried to stay calm, but it was obvious his boyfriend was confused, looking through a fog, and in pain.

When he started to gag on the tube down his throat, he didn’t know what to do. He released Sonny’s hand and stood, calling for a nurse. Two came in, tending to Sonny, and another approached Rafael.

“Why don’t you go to the waiting room, honey,” she said, practically pulling him through the door. He should’ve been fighting harder, trying to stay, but he was _tired_. For once, he decided to trust in the nurses, to trust that Sonny would be okay.

He looked back one more time, and he instantly wished he hadn’t. Sonny was struggling, gagging, his eyes extremely wide and blue and searching in a panic. His wrists braced against the restraints and he was weakly kicking his legs. Before Rafael could renege on his decision, the nurse strongly gestured him through the double doors of the ICU and into the waiting room.

“Rafael,” a voice whispered.

“Bella,” he responded as she stood up and hugged him.

“How is he?” she asked as she sat back down in her place next to Olivia. He remained standing, suddenly too worried to sit.

“He was awake, for a minute, and then started fighting against the intubation. They kicked me out. I’m sure Olivia has filled you in on everything?”

“Yes,” she replied, looking at her. “I can’t believe it. He’s not a cop anymore, and this happens?”

Finally, Rafael sat down, across from the women. He rubbed his hand on his face, through his beard. “Have you talked to the rest of your family?”

“Yeah, I’ve been forwarding all your texts to them.”

“And your parents?”

She frowned. “No response, yet. They’re in Thailand, and I think the Wi-Fi is pretty spotty.”

After a minute of silence, Olivia spoke, “Listen, Rafael. It’s noon, and I know I’ve been in and out, but you’ve been here for over twelve hours…”

Rafael stopped listening because a nurse came out of the ICU and approached them.

“We’re getting ready to extubate Dominick,” he said. “His oxygen levels have been excellent, and he is coming in and out of consciousness. Right now, the tube is causing him more trouble than it’s worth, especially with him fighting it. We’ve sedated him for now, and once Dr. Adarsh comes down, we’ll take it out.”

“When can we see him again?” Bella asked, chewing on her nails.

“He’s pretty heavily sedated, now,” the nurse responded. “It’ll be a few hours before he’s awake again.”

Bella huffed. Rafael realized she hadn’t seen him yet. How long had she been here, anyway?

“I’ll have Dr. Adarsh come out and talk to you folks when we’re done,” the nurse supplied before turning on his heel and going back into the ICU.

Bella stopped chewing her nails and clasped her hands together. She checked her phone. “Gina just texted, she’ll be here in half an hour.”

Rafael was silent. He had nothing to say. His boyfriend was in distress, and there was nothing he could do but sit and wait.

“As I was saying,” Olivia commented. “You’ve been here for twelve hours, Rafa. Why don’t you go home, get something to eat, shower, and rest for a few hours? I can drive you.”

Rafael shook his head. He didn’t want to leave. Couldn’t leave. Sonny needed him.

“Gina and I will hold down the fort,” Bella added.

“You can come back in the evening,” Olivia said.

Rafael looked between the two women, sighed, and felt himself acquiesce. He was hungry, exhausted, and grimy, and the reasonable part of his brain knew that Sonny would be okay.

“Will you call me if anything changes?” he asked Bella.

“Of course.” She nodded.

Olivia stood up, gathering her purse. She gave Rafael a knowing look, and he felt himself standing, following, down the hallway, into the elevator, and towards his empty apartment, which wouldn’t be home without Sonny.

It was seven P.M. when a text awoke Rafael with a start. Somehow, his prolonged worry and hypervigilance collapsed and knocked him out as soon as his head hit the pillow. With a grunt, he grabbed his phone off the bedside table.

From Bella: _He’s starting to wake up a little, in and out. I have to go home, and Gina does too. Are you planning on coming back tonight? Visiting hours are 24/7._

Rafael typed out a reply, squinting through half-awake eyes: _Yes, I’m on my way. Do you need anything?_

He didn’t expect her to need anything, but it’s a nice gesture, he supposed. The Carisis liked that kind of thing. He showered, quickly, changed into something acceptable, chugged a cup of coffee, and scrounged together a ham and cheese sandwich before he was out the door. The sandwich tasted dry and pasty, even with Sonny’s must-have fancy deli products, but he forced himself to swallow. It was mere sustenance. It would get him through the night.

While in the cab, he emailed his boss about taking the next week off of work. He had been texting and calling Carmen consistently about clearing his schedule, but he figured the U.S. attorney he worked for deserved an email directly from his employee. His new job involved only a couple big trials every year with lots of research in between. He was in a research phase right now, so taking some time off wouldn’t put him too far behind.

After the excruciating taxi ride in rush hour traffic and navigating through the hospital, he made it to Sonny’s room. He opened the door, taking a deep breath, afraid of what was ahead.

Rafael smiled despite himself. Sonny looked better. He still looked terrible, but he looked _better_. The tube down his throat had been replaced with a cannula in his nostrils. His cheeks had a bit more color, and his mouth was slightly open as he slept, just like how he was at home. Rafael sat down and immediately grabbed his lover’s hand. Sonny breathed softly and steadily, and the rhythm between that and the heart monitor calmed him instantly.

“Hey,” he said. “I’m sorry I left you with your sisters all afternoon.” When he said it, he was overcome with guilt. How had he allowed himself to succumb to his weaknesses? How could he leave the love of his life when he was at his worst?

He took a deep breath. “But I’m here now. I won’t leave, at least for now.” He thought about bringing the hand he was holding up to his mouth for a kiss, but stopped himself, remembering the risks of infection in the ICU, and squeezed it instead. Sonny responded by curling up his index finger and rubbing it on Rafael’s palm

Wait- _Sonny responded_!

“Sonny? Baby? Are you awake?” Rafael asked, pleadingly.

“Hmmmm,” he groaned in response, pursing his lips.

He squeezed harder. “You’re all right, sweetheart. I’m here. Open your eyes.”

One of Sonny’s eyelids popped open. “Rafi?” he croaked. He licked his lips.

“Yeah, it’s me. Look at me, baby.”

Sonny opened his other eye and moved his head excruciatingly slowly towards Rafael’s voice. Rafael smiled at him, and Sonny seemed to try his best to smile back. His eyes were watery and dazed: no doubt affected from whatever drugs they were giving him. But when their eyes met, Rafael knew that his Sonny was still in there.

“What… what happened?” he asked wearily.

Rafael wasn’t sure what to say. Was he allowed to tell him what happened? Was he supposed to remember it on his own? He settled by saying, “You were hurt trying to help someone. Your head was hit pretty hard, so you’re in the hospital.”

That seemed to satisfy him for now. “How long?”

“Um, just under 24 hours.”

Sonny loosened his grip on Rafael’s hand. “Water?” he choked out.

Rafael wasn’t sure what Sonny was allowed. Where could he even get water?

“Let me ask, okay?” He stood up, releasing his hand. “I’ll be right back.”

“No,” he protested, his voice the strongest it had been.

“What?” Rafael stepped closer.

“Don’t.” He started to shake his head before wincing in pain.

Rafael frowned, realizing that Sonny didn’t want him to leave. “Stop that. I’ll be right back. You can watch me through the window.” He pointed towards the view of the nurses’ station. “See?”

Sonny nodded sadly. Rafael walked out of the room trying to hide his concern. He found Bethany, who quickly met his eyes.

“He’s awake,” he said. “Can he have water?”

“Yes,” she replied, putting down the chart she was flipping through. “I’ll bring some to you, all right? Why don’t you go back to him? Our patients tend to be… clingy when they first wake up.”

“Okay,” he said. “Thank you.” He walked back to the room, where Sonny was waiting for him with bleary eyes. Clingy, indeed. Rafael had never seen him like this. 

“The nurse, Bethany, is bringing some. She’ll be here in a minute,” he said, sitting back down.

“I… I… I’m confused,” Sonny confessed softly.

Rafael furrowed his brow. “What’s wrong?”

“I don’t know,” he murmured. “I don’t know! I’m confused.” He started shaking his head again, rustling his hands against the restraints.

“Stop,” Rafael said with as much authority as he could muster. He was extremely concerned about the monitor currently sticking out of Sonny’s skull. “You’ll hurt yourself.”

“I am hurt,” he whispered.

“Yes,” Rafael said. “But you’re going to be okay. I’m here with you. For you.”

“I’m hurt,” Sonny repeated, louder, still shaking his head and breathing harder out of his mouth.

“You’re okay. I promise.” He didn’t know what to say. Sonny was becoming more and more agitated.

“Mr. Carisi!” Bethany greeted, carrying a pitcher and a cup with a straw. “Here you are.” She set it on the side table. “How are you feeling?”

Sonny’s eyes widened. “Rafi… who?” He had an unfamiliar look on his face—forehead creased, eyes darting, breathing heavily.

It was fear, Rafael realized. “This is Bethany, she’s a nurse. She’s here to help you, okay?” 

“That’s right,” she supplied, smiling at her patient and patting Rafael on the back. “I’m going to page one of his doctors, all right? Now that he’s more coherent,” she added, just to Rafael. Then, to both of them, “Have some water, okay? You’ll feel better.”

Once she was out the door, Sonny calmed slightly, but not enough to stop Rafael’s own racing heart. He had seen Sonny go through a myriad of emotions—anxiety, sadness, elation—but never pure _fear_. He poured a cup of water and held the straw to Sonny’s lips.

He took a tentative sip. Rafael grinned at him, and Sonny grinned, albeit with less than half of his usual joy, back.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4: 

Do not forsake me, O Lord;

O my God, do not be far from me;

make haste to help me,

O Lord, my salvation.

_Psalm 38:21-22_

Rafael’s back hurt. It was all he could think as he blearily blinked his eyes open, his shoulder being shaken by Bethany. He had fallen asleep hunched over in his chair.

“Sorry to wake you,” she said sympathetically. “It’s nearly seven. Rounds are soon. I’m gonna need you to go to the waiting room for a bit.”

He nodded and glanced at Sonny. His boyfriend was peacefully sleeping, finally. It had been a long, painful night for him. After some adjustments, it seemed like they finally got the dosage for painkillers right. Despite not having many bodily injuries, Rafael had to remind himself that Sonny had a fracture in his skull and bruises on his brain. It was bound to be a long recovery, and Rafael was due for a second wind already.

Rafael squeezed Sonny’s hand one more time and left the ICU. Sitting in the waiting room was none other than Amanda Rollins, foot tapping, distracting herself on her phone. She looked up when Rafael approached.

“Hey,” she said, putting down her phone and handing Rafael a takeaway cup of coffee as he sat down.

“Hey. Thank you,” he said while trying to rub the sleepiness out of his eyes.

“Long night?” she asked, taking a sip of her own coffee.

Rafael frowned. “You could say that.”

“How is he? I’m sorry that I couldn’t come yesterday, I just had my own family shit to deal with, and Bella was texting me…”

Rafael held up a hand. “Don’t worry about it,” he interrupted. “He slept most of yesterday, anyway. He’s doing better, I think. I guess it’s hard to tell with a head injury like this.”

“No shit,” she murmured. “A skull fracture? From a baseball bat?”

“He’s lucky to be alive and talking,” Rafael stated. It was the first time he had dared to voice those thoughts.

Amanda nodded solemnly. “Yeah. Good thing he has that thick skull we tease him about, right?” She nudged Rafael with her elbow. He smirked and took a drink of his coffee. It was just how he liked it. Amanda was a better detective, and a better friend, than he gave her credit for. She had supported his and Sonny’s relationship from the beginning, and via Sonny’s stories and “family dinners,” Rafael found himself caring more and more about her and her daughters. The girls loved their Uncle Rafa, and he had no idea why, considering how grumpy he could be. Over time, however, he learned that he’d do anything for them. _He’d do anything for the kids he daydreamed he and Sonny having_ , he thought, but he was getting ahead of himself. They’d only been together two years, and for Sonny, marriage would come before anything else.

“Earth to Barba?” Amanda said, rousing Rafael from his thoughts.

“What? Sorry.”

“I was just saying that once they’re done with rounds, I can take a shift. I’d like to see him,” she confessed.

“Do you work today?”

“Not until noon,” she said. “C’mon Barba, go get some breakfast. Call your mother.”

Oh God, his _mother_. He had sent her a few texts when everything initially went down, but he’d been ignoring her calls since. His face must’ve betrayed his emotions, because Amanda chuckled at him. “You’re right, Rollins,” he said. He downed the rest of the coffee in a few gulps and stood.

“By the way,” Amanda said before he could leave. “It was Liv that gave me the tip about your mom. Apparently, she’s resorted to calling her.”

“Oh Christ,” he murmured. “I’ll be back soon.”

“Take your time,” she called after him. “He’s in good hands.”

It was barely seven in the morning, but Rafael was craving something sweet. He walked towards Morningside Park, knowing that a Sonny-approved Italian bakery was on the way. He stopped in, grabbing an americano and a few cornetti. He found a bench in the park and ate his breakfast, finding some joy in how the pastries reminded him of his boyfriend. He watched the joggers run by. Sonny liked to run here, sometimes, if he needed something quieter than Central Park. He willed himself to stop thinking about him, and instead mustered up the courage to call his mother. She picked up on the first ring.

“Rafael!” she practically shouted. “Are you all right? How is Sonny? You left me hanging, Rafi. You need to call your mother!”

“Mami,” he said calmly. “I’m here, okay? I’m sorry.”

After being told off by his mother for making her worry too much, Rafael updated her on Sonny’s condition. She voiced her concern, and even though she was in Miami visiting friends, she offered to come back to New York. He assured her that was not needed, and that they’d see her in a week when she returned as scheduled. After a good hour on the phone, probably elongated by his mother so that he would be momentarily distracted, he finally hung up.

He sighed and collected his thoughts for a moment. He needed a proper nap, he decided. In a real bed. He got up and set himself about catching a cab home.

Once he got a text that Bella was visiting during her lunch hour, Rafael decided to extend his break and take a shower, too. He made it back to the hospital around one, and while collecting his visitor’s pass in the ICU waiting room, Dr. Adarsh came out and bumped into him.

“Oh, there you are, Mr. Barba,” she said. “How are you doing?”

“I’m fine, considering.”

She nodded in understanding. “I know it’s hard to see the people you love in pain. Actually, I wanted to talk to you for a minute.” She gestured for him to take a seat in the corner of the room.

“Mr. Carisi, I mean, _Sonny_ ,” she began, chuckling to herself. “His sister insisted that I call him Sonny. I hope that’s okay.”

“He would appreciate it,” Rafael responded.

“All right. Well, Sonny has been steadily improving over the past few hours. He’s scheduled for another CT scan at 3, and that will really let us judge his progress. The ICP monitor is giving us good readings about the pressure under his skull. If his CT shows he’s improving, we’ll go ahead and remove it tomorrow. It’s not a painful procedure and can be done under light sedation, but he’ll want someone here. I’ll let you know. Once it’s out, we’ll take the next steps of removing him from the ICU and into a regular ward. His spirits are definitely up; he was laughing and joking with his sister and friend. We also removed his restraints. He’s had a few bouts of confusion, but the nurses and I don’t believe he’ll try to pull any wires anymore. Keeping him in a positive mood is an important factor to his healing.” She paused. “Do you have any questions for me?”

Rafael widened his eyes. That was a lot of information at once, but he appreciated it.

“Yesterday worried me,” he said. “He was in a lot of pain, and, mentally, he didn’t seem all right.”

“I know what you mean,” Dr. Adarsh said. “Anxiety and other psychiatric symptoms, including PTSD, especially after what he went through, are not uncommon for traumatic brain injury patients. We’re taking his case day by day, processing new information as we get it. I’ll have a psychiatrist see him tomorrow. Anything else?”  
He took a deep breath. “What does his treatment plan look like? Long-term, I mean.”

Dr. Adarsh produced a few pamphlets and handed them to him. “It varies from patient to patient, depending on their neurological and physical function post-TBI. Some can go home right away, and others need to go to inpatient facilities. Looking at him right now, I’d say he’s on track to go home straight from the hospital in about a week. But I need you to remember that that can change in an instant. Brain injuries are tricky and surprise us in ways we can’t believe, for good or for bad. Keeping him optimistic, and keeping yourself optimistic, is the best way. The only way, in my opinion.”

“Can I tell him what happened?”

She nodded. “His memory overall seems fine; he just doesn’t remember the incident. This is pretty common with head trauma. You can tell him what happened and let him come to some conclusions on his own.”

Rafael nodded. “Okay. I guess that’s all the questions I have for now.”

She gave him a soft smile and patted his shoulder. “I’ll stop by once he gets back from CT to go over the results. Now, go see him. He’s waiting for you.”

Rafael followed her orders, but not before glancing at the pamphlets she handed him, namely, _Loving Someone with a Traumatic Brain Injury_. He scoffed, folding it up and putting it in his pocket, and went to Sonny’s room.

“Rafi,” was his greeting from Sonny’s raspy voice. Rafael figured it was sore from the intubation and having to converse with Amanda and Bella.

“Hi, baby,” he replied, taking his seat and finally giving in to kiss Sonny’s hand.

Sonny blushed. “Did you have a good breakfast?”

“Mmm, I got cornetti. Tried to remind myself of you.”

Sonny raised his eyebrows cheekily. “I follow you wherever you go, Rafi.”

Rafael chuckled. This was weird. Sonny seemed almost… normal? Tired, and a little bit subdued, but normal. He sighed and remembered what Dr. Adarsh had told him. “Do you want to talk about what happened? What do you remember?”

“I, uh,” Sonny started, uncertain. “We were at Columbia. A lecture about… New Zealand?”  
“International law policies,” Rafael supplied.

“Right.” Sonny nodded. “It was cool outside. We started walking home, and… that’s it.”

“That’s good, Sonny,” Rafael replied, even though he didn’t know if it was actually good or not. “Do you want to know more?”

He shrugged. “Yeah.”

“Well,” he started, suddenly uncertain. He squeezed Sonny’s hand to reassure himself. “We were walking home from Columbia, and we heard a scream coming from an alley. You… you ran toward the alley where a man was attacking a woman. You pulled him off of her, and he was able to push you down…” Rafael paused. Sonny just blinked up at him.

“His weapon of choice was a baseball bat.” Rafael cleared his throat. “And he hit you in the head with it, while you were down. Twice.”

Sonny sighed. “Is the woman okay?”

Rafael wasn’t sure if she was _okay_ , so to speak, so he decided to say, “Yes. You got to her in time.”

“And the perp?”

“He got away, at least at the scene. I haven’t heard if they’ve gotten any suspects. I’m sure Liv will let us know.”

Sonny nodded, content for now. “That explains why my head hurts like a motherfucker.”

Rafael laughed. “A skull fracture will do that.”

* * *

The next morning, Sonny was cleared to have his ICP monitor removed. They gave him some sedatives to ease the process, and Rafael held his hand as the nurses and a doctor prepared the site on Sonny’s skull.

“Okay, we’re ready,” the doctor said. “You’ll feel some pressure, but it shouldn’t hurt. Take some deep breaths and just look at your boyfriend, there. Ready?” The doctor, not Dr. Adarsh, but a neurosurgeon, looked to Rafael for confirmation. He squeezed Sonny’s arm and nodded.

“Take a deep breath in and hold it. On three, you’ll release it,” the doctor said, placing his hands on the device sticking out of Sonny’s head. Sonny obeyed, inhaling dramatically.

“One, two, three.” On three, Sonny exhaled, and the doctor pulled out the probe. Rafael tried not to watch; the last thing he wanted was to get squeamish. Sonny wrinkled his nose in some discomfort, but relaxed once it was out.

“And there we go!” the doctor said, setting the probe on a surgical tray out of sight. “Now for the more painful part. Stay as still as possible.”

“Got it,” Sonny said. The doctor and nurses prepared the site for suturing.

“Now you’re a free bird,” Rafael joked. “Nothing can hold you back.”

Sonny smiled, until the doctor began stitching, and then he grimaced and gripped Rafael’s hand, hard.

Rafael continued, trying to distract him. “You’re going to have a cute little bald spot for a bit. We’ll have to be creative with how you can cover it. Too bad it isn’t hat season. There will be _no_ fedoras for you, and that’s an order.”

“Oh yeah?” Sonny teased drowsily.

“Yeah. If you try to wear a fedora out of the house, we’re breaking up.” 

That elicited a chuckle from the medical staff, but Sonny rolled his eyes. “Liar. You’d love me if I wore… a paper bag over my head.” His speech was nearly slurred from the drugs. Sonny had always been a lightweight.

Rafael smiled, rubbing his hand along Sonny’s arm. “You’re right.”

* * *

That afternoon, when Sonny started coming down off the sedatives, he had another panic attack. Rafael was sitting next to him, texting his third sister, Theresa.

“Rafi,” he croaked, waking up from his nap. “Where?” He looked so small, so confused.

“Yeah Sonny, it’s me. You’re okay. Do you remember where we are?”

“Yeah… yeah… just confused. Dizzy.” His breathing was picking up speed.

“I know sweetheart, but I’m here.” Not sure what to say, he added, “I’ll take care of you. Just keep breathing. Breathe with me.”

Sonny obeyed, breathing with Rafael for a few minutes before calming down. “M’sorry,” he mumbled, letting his eyes shut.

“It’s all right, honey. Just rest.”

* * *

“Big day tomorrow,” Rollins commented, leaning back in her chair. Her daughter, Jessie, was currently showing off her latest coloring book pages to Sonny, who interacted with her with so much love and respect that it made Rafael’s heart hurt.

“Uh huh,” Rafael replied, sipping from yet another coffee that Amanda had brought him. She had been a lifesaver for the past week, along with Sonny’s sisters, stepping in to be with him so that Rafael could catch up on his basic needs. Sonny had graduated from the ICU a few days ago and was set to be released from the hospital completely tomorrow. Rafael couldn’t believe his progress: from being intubated to strolling down the hall with his walker a few days later. Rafael had been given extremely detailed care instructions, from how much Sonny could sleep to what he could eat and what kind of meds he had to take for each symptom. He a had list of Sonny’s doctors’ phone numbers for easy reference. The walker would be coming home with them, too. He was still unsteady on his feet and would get sudden bouts of dizziness and vertigo.

Some of this stemmed from a new development in Sonny’s recovery- he had lost most of his hearing in his left ear. Sonny thought that everything was quiet because the bandages were muffling things, but once the large one that covered most of his head and ear was gone, he learned that was not the case. It didn’t look like it was coming back, either. The blow had rendered his eardrum and ear canal “shredded,” as one of the doctors so eloquently put it, and the damage to his Eustachian tube seriously messed up his balance. With time, physical therapy, and the right medication, the vertigo could be manageable, they were assured.

“How’s your noggin, Uncle Sonny?” Jesse asked, climbing up onto his bed.

“Better every day, pumpkin,” he replied, ruffling her hair. He shared a look with Rafael. “Better every day.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please excuse any medical inaccuracies! I am not a medical professional!


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

But Moses’ hands grew weary; so they took a stone and put it under him, and he sat on it. Aaron and Hur held up his hands, one on one side, and the other on the other side; so his hands were steady until the sun set.

_Exodus 17:12_

“Here we are!” Rafael exclaimed, unlocking the door with a flourish. Sonny smiled in response, leaning slightly against Bella. Tommy, her husband, was behind them, carrying the walker and a bag of things accumulated during Sonny’s hospital stay. Sonny had relied on Rafael and Bella for balance during the brief walk from the car to the elevator to the front door, but they hadn’t bothered with the walker. Getting him set up was a whole process.

Rafael held onto Sonny’s elbow and pulled him into the threshold. Their apartment was the same (surprisingly spacious kitchen, breakfast nook, squished living room) but it still had an air of _differentness_. It smelled like coming home after being on a long vacation, Sonny decided. His boyfriend and sister brought him to the couch, which was covered with a bed sheet, and sat down. He looked at the sheet quizzically.

Rafael raised his hands in mock surrender. “I just wanted to protect our precious sofa from any… leakages… of blood or food or drool or whatever.”

Bella snickered at his word choice, and Sonny joined in. His chuckle sounded _real_ , for the first time since the ordeal, and Rafael beamed.

Bella made her way to the kitchen. “You guys want an early dinner? Ma made me promise I’d make you something fresh.” She pulled out a spatula from a drawer and pointed it at her brother.

“Maybe something light,” Sonny said politely. Rafael could tell he had no appetite. In fact, for the past week it seemed like he barely ate but forced himself to chew and swallow.

“How about a salad?” she asked, already turning around to get it started. “I know Theresa made some balsamic…”

She opened the refrigerator, which was filled to the brim with fresh groceries and enough pre-made pasta and casseroles to feed a small army. Rafael couldn’t believe the outpouring of love and support Sonny had received since the incident. Whenever he was home, another relative, friend, or coworker of Sonny’s was dropping off food. Rafael couldn’t help but wonder how different the reaction would be if it had been him that got hurt. Then, he realized, that if people loved Sonny this much, by proxy they would support his boyfriend, if only to get in Sonny’s good graces.

Bella pulled out the homemade balsamic—in a mason jar, per Carisi recipe tradition—and some lettuce and veggies and got to work. Bella could hold her own in the kitchen, all the Carisi kids could, but Rafael missed watching Sonny gracefully floating around, preparing classic favorites and daring new concoctions with ease.

“Why don’t you finish setting up the shower bench?” Bella asked Tommy, who nodded and made his way to the bathroom. Rafael wanted to argue and offer to help, but he knew that Bella would fight back, saying _it’s the only way he feels he can help. Let him work with his hands, he’s good at it_.

“Any other news from our parents?” Sonny asked, rotating on the couch to face his sister. Rafael got to work setting the table.

“I spoke to her this morning. She was happy to hear from you yesterday, finally. Their first flight back is tomorrow, but I guess it’ll take them two days to get home.” She shrugged.

“Oh, that’s right,” Sonny said, realizing that someone (it had been Rafael) had told him that before. His long-term memory was perfectly intact, but sometimes he forgot small details from the present. He had to be told things repeatedly, or he would ask the same question only hours apart. But, as the doctors tried to tell them, it was getting better. Slowly. Rafael could only hope.

He brought Sonny a glass of water with a straw and sat next to him on the couch. Sonny smiled in thanks and scooted closer to him. He gently rested his head on Rafael’s shoulder. Rafael ran his hand up and down his back in response. It was one of the more intimate gestures they had shared in the past week. It was already hard to snuggle in a hospital bed, and it was even more impossible when one party had a broken skull and brain contusions.

Bella murmured “Awww” barely to herself when her phone buzzed. She set the finished salad on the table. “Damn it, that’s the sitter.” Rafael and Sonny turned to her. “We gotta go, Tommy,” she called.

“Everything okay?” Sonny asked.

Bella sighed. “Yeah, apparently your wonderful niece got a splinter and won’t stop crying about it.”

Tommy strolled out of the bathroom. “The bench is set up.”

“You weren’t supposed to stay long, anyway,” Sonny said. “Go be with your kids on your day off. Give them a kiss for me.”

“Will do,” she said, sauntering to the couch and dramatically smooching him on an exposed, uninjured patch of his head. Rafael noticed her move to ruffle his hair, but she stopped herself, frowning, and patted him on the shoulder instead. Thankfully, Sonny didn’t notice.

“You guys need anything else?” she asked one last time.

“No, we’re good.”

With that, Sonny and Rafael were alone. Sonny sighed and leaned against Rafael once more.

“Come on,” Rafael grunted after a minute. “Let’s eat.”

“I’m not actually hungry.”

“Yeah, I figured, but you have to eat something. I’ll drown it in balsamic, okay?”

Sonny shrugged. “Okay.” Rafael pulled him to his feet and brought him to the table. He scooped out a small portion of the salad and, as promised, drenched it in the homemade dressing. Once Rafael had served himself, Sonny closed his eyes for a moment, praying. Rafael didn’t quite understand the sentiment, but he waited until he was finished before digging in.

Sonny picked at his food but did eat it, if only to make his boyfriend happy. Rafael cleared their plates, as was their tradition. Sonny would usually make his way to the couch or pour them some wine, but he couldn’t do that anymore. He settled to watch Rafael, instead.

“I wish I could have something to drink,” he said with a sigh.

“You know you’re not allowed to have alcohol,” Rafael responded, putting their plates in the dishwasher.

“Yeah, I know.” Sonny rolled his eyes.

“But I have a surprise for you.” Rafael pulled out two champagne flutes from the cupboard and set them on the table. Then, from the table he grabbed a bottle of what appeared to be champagne.

“It’s sparkling apple juice,” Rafael explained. He popped the cork unceremoniously and poured them each a glass.

Sonny laughed out loud, the sound pure elation music to Rafael’s ears. He held up his flute, full of the bubbly liquid. “A toast,” Sonny began. Rafael raised his cup in kind. “To healing.”

“To healing,” Rafael joined, and then: “To the future.”

They clinked their glasses and each took a sip. Sonny smacked his lips. “Not as good as the real stuff, but it will suffice,” he said.

Rafael chuckled, set down his half-empty flute, took Sonny’s face in his hands, and kissed him tenderly, all over.

* * *

Rafael couldn’t help but grin widely when he woke up in bed with his boyfriend next to him. They couldn’t quite cuddle as they slept -- anything other than laying on his back was painful for Sonny – but somehow Sonny’s arm had splayed out to lie on Rafael’s torso during the night. He watched him sleep for a while. He looked more relaxed and peaceful than he had when he was in the hospital. The bandages on his head were finally gone, and the hair was slowly growing in around the gash on the left side of his head and the stiches on the right. The bruising on his ear that had crept towards his temple was nearly faded, now just a pale yellow. Rafael frowned when he realized that he couldn’t lean over and whisper in that ear anymore to wake Sonny up. It wouldn’t hear him. For some reason, that made Rafael sadder than anything.

He took the arm resting on his belly and squeezed it, softly rocking his boyfriend awake. “C’mon Sonny. Time to get up. The occupational therapist is coming in…” he glanced at the clock “an hour.”

Sonny groaned and slowly shifted awake. He brought his hands up to his face and rubbed at his temples.

“Feel okay?” Rafael asked.

“Yeah,” he croaked, sitting up. Rafael got out of bed to get a glass of water and his morning medications. Sonny took them without protest, then attempted to get up, himself. Rafael let him try, but in the mornings, Sonny was more unsteady than usual. He was able to bring his legs to the side of the bed but needed Rafael to help him up. They had practiced all of this at the hospital but doing it at home for the first time felt novel. They were both silent, moving together. Rafael knew Sonny, who was wired for complete independence, was embarrassed and maybe a bit ashamed at needing all this help. Rafael helped him anyway and tried not to dehumanize him.

After getting ready for the day in the bathroom, Rafael got Sonny situated at the table for breakfast.

“What do you want?” he asked, starting the coffee pot. He felt guilty, considering Sonny wasn’t allowed to have any, but Rafael really couldn’t get through the day without it.

“I don’t know,” was Sonny’s reply.

“Cereal?”

“Sure.”

Rafael pulled out Sonny’s favorite cereal, some sugary abomination, and set it on the table. They ate quietly, which wasn’t unusual for them in the morning. They were usually rushing around and getting ready for work. Rafael couldn’t remember the last time they had sat down like this for breakfast.

“Is it okay if I leave you alone with Julia today? I need to run to my office to pick up a few things.” The occupational therapist, Julia, specialized in helping TBI patients with physical stability and everyday tasks in the home. She had worked with Sonny in the hospital and would be working with him twice a week now: once at home and once in her clinic. While at the clinic, Sonny also met with a physical therapist. Emotional therapy was still being set up, to Rafael’s dismay, but the hospital psychiatrist and Sonny’s psychiatrist of a few years had given them good referrals.

“Yeah, that’s fine,” Sonny replied, finishing his cereal. Rafael was happy to see him eat without much persuasion.

The morning went smoothly, all things considered. Julia arrived promptly, suggesting they work on getting up off the couch today. Rafael promised to be back in an hour and a half and kissed a quiet Sonny on the head before leaving.

Later that evening, around dinnertime, Rafael was at the kitchen table reading up on a case he had missed. An alarm went off from his phone; Sonny had been asleep for two hours. Time to wake him up. Sleep was vital for his recovery, but too much could inadvertently be harmful. Plus, Rafael wanted him to sleep through the night.

“Sonny,” he called in a sing-song voice, walking to the bedroom. “Time to get up, babe. What do you want for dinner? Casserole or casserole?”

Sonny was splayed out on his back with his arm over his eyes. He sighed deeply.

Rafael knew a protest was coming. “Come oooooon,” he whined dramatically, peeling Sonny’s arm off of his face. His eyes were wide open, staring at the ceiling.

Rafael frowned. “You awake? Or are you sleeping with your eyes open?” He waved his hand in front of his face, and Sonny blinked.

Sonny didn’t make a sound but allowed Rafael to maneuver him out of bed. He was deadly silent and staring off into space.

“Look at me,” Rafael said, gripping Sonny’s face in his hands as he sat on the edge of the bed. Sonny acquiesced, but barely. He met Rafael’s eyes for a split second before blinking away. “What’s wrong, honey?” he pleaded.

Again, no response. Rafael took a deep breath, attempting to quell his panic. He mentally leafed through the TBI pamphlets that were ingrained into his memory. Was he… _catatonic_? He sat next to Sonny on the bed and pulled up Google on his phone. After scaring the crap out of himself scrolling through the results, he pulled up the number to the psychiatrist. Unfortunately, it was just past office hours.

Not knowing what to do, Rafael stroked Sonny’s back. “What do you need?” he asked. No response. “Tell me how to help you.” No response. Would threats work? “I don’t want to have to take you to the E.R.” A minute twitch to the eyelids, but overall, no response.

Rafael decided to pretend like everything was normal. “We’re going to go to the kitchen table,” he said. “I’m going to reheat some atrocious lasagna and you’re going to try to eat some.” With that, he stood, grabbed Sonny’s elbows, and pulled him up. Sonny was surprisingly pliant and let himself be guided by Rafael without saying a word.

He followed through with his promise, preheating the oven and scavenging through the refrigerator for a lasagna. There had to be three of them. One that he remembered being from a Carisi relative seemed to be the best bet.

Rafael poured large glasses of water for the both of them. “Drink it. You just woke up,” he reasoned, more to himself than to anybody else. “It’ll help.”

To Rafael’s amazement, Sonny brought the glass to his lips and took a few big gulps. Rafael’s eyes widened in shock. “Thank you,” was all he could say.

When the lasagna was served, Sonny also ate after Rafael asked. When they finished, Rafael worked up the courage to do more research on Sonny’s current state. All he could find was that administering a tranquilizer might help. Sonny had been prescribed some of those, but Rafael wasn’t about to give Sonny anything without a doctor’s explicit recommendation. Also, weren’t those for panic attacks? Wasn’t this the opposite of a panic attack?

He decided to return to his course of acting like things were normal. He cleared the table, then brought them to the couch. Sonny slumped over immediately, and, concerned, Rafael pulled him so that his head was lying in his lap. His eyes stayed open. Again, Rafael had no idea what to do. He expected tears. He expected hyperventilating. He never expected _this_.

Rafael turned the TV on to something mindless and tried to distract himself. It didn’t work. Nothing changed. Maybe Sonny was just still half asleep. Sleepwalking. He needed to wake up.   
“You need to take a shower,” Rafael stated, stroking Sonny’s slightly greasy hair.

He brought him to the bathroom and stripped him of all his clothing. Rafael felt _wrong_. Something they did a million times, which was usually sexy and fun, now felt clinical. He did it anyway. Even if the shower didn’t help, at least Sonny would be clean. Rafael just stripped down to his underwear. He wasn’t planning on getting wet.

Sonny was still completely pliant, leaning against the counter where Rafael placed him, as Rafael pulled back the shower curtain and started the water. He laid out some towels on the ground. Once the water was warm enough, Rafael took him by the shoulders and gently guided him under the spray. Once hit with the water, Sonny gasped softly, and gradually seemed to become more alert. Rafael stood outside the shower, some water spraying to the bathroom floor, and washed Sonny’s hair. He was extra careful and clinical around the injuries. He continued to wash his body but had only made it to his shoulders when Sonny gasped again, loudly, and began to collapse.

Rafael caught him and brought him down to the shower bench, just out of the spray. Sonny made eye contact for a few seconds. His eyes were watery. Rafael knew what was coming, so he climbed in next to him, not caring if his boxers got wet, and cradled him against his chest. Then, the sobs came, stealing Sonny’s breath with every heave. They were raucous, heartbreaking, and unlike anything Rafael had ever heard before.

_How would they get through this?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, I'm not a medical professional. Did Rafael make the best decisions upon learning that his boyfriend was in this state? Would you? We'll find out!


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW: Knife (this chapter only)  
> This chapter contains a scene that I wanted to write that practically inspired this whole story. But I should also add a content warning for a character going through a psychological breakdown while in possession of a knife. If this is something that you would like to skip over the details of, stop reading at "Amanda didn't know how it happened" and it should be safe to pick back up at "Rafael didn't know what to say". I'll provide a non-graphic summary of what happened between those lines in the end notes (although the descriptions aren't too graphic to begin with).  
> If you are not a fan of seeing your favorite characters in pain, maybe this story isn't for you, however this is mainly a story about growth and healing, and I am a big fan of happy endings ;)

Chapter 6

Vindicate me, O Lord, my God,

according to your righteousness,

and do not let them rejoice over me.

Do not let them say to themselves,

“Aha, we have our heart’s desire.”

Do not let them say, “We have swallowed you up.”

_Psalm 35:24-25_

The morning after Sonny’s episode, Rafael was in the bedroom on the phone with Dr. Barrera, Sonny’s psychiatrist, while Sonny sat at the dining table, pretending to eat breakfast. He had tried to convince his boyfriend that he felt fine, that he didn’t know what happened yesterday. Once he had come back to his senses in the shower, he was immediately overcome with exhaustion and went to bed. Rafael had to admit that he seemed back to “normal” in the morning, but a call to the psychiatrist was still necessary. He had already spoken to Sonny, but because he couldn’t quite describe what happened, Rafael was telling his side of the story to him.

As Sonny took a sip of his bitter decaf coffee, Rafael paced back into the room and hung up the phone.

“What did he say?” Sonny asked.

Rafael sighed and sat down. “He said it sounds like a catatonic episode. If it happens again, I could give you a Valium.”

“Any med changes?”

“No. Apparently we have to play it by ear.” Since the accident, Sonny’s anti-anxiety prescription had upped a bit in dosage, but otherwise hadn’t changed.

Sonny nodded and took another sip of not-coffee. He grimaced. It was hard to get it down.

“Not good?” Rafael asked.

“I’m just expecting our usual brand, you know?” he replied. A silence fell between them. They were rarely silent.

“I’m sorry, Rafi,” Sonny said, finally.

Rafael perked up. “Sonny…”

Sonny held up a hand. “No, let me talk, please. I’m sorry that I don’t know what happened yesterday. I’m sorry that I scared you. I’m gonna do everything I can to make sure it doesn’t happen again.”

“Sonny, stop.” Rafael couldn’t resist adding.

“No. I’m gonna get better, Rafi. Before you know it, I’ll be back to work and our lives can resume. Our relationship can resume.” He put his head in his hands. “I’m sorry.”

Rafael snatched his hand from his forehead and gripped it tightly. “Stop. Sonny. I love you. No matter what. We’re committed to each other. You’re not alone in this.”

After a beat, Sonny gave a soft smile. “I know. I love you, too.” With that, Rafael helped Sonny stand, guided him so he was leaning against the counter, and hugged him. It was a deep, settled embrace. It was intimate and vulnerable. It was love.

A minute passed before either spoke again; they were too busy relishing in their feelings and enjoying the contact.

“You know what made me kind of sad this morning?” Sonny asked, softly.

Rafael dislodged his head from under Sonny’s chin and looked up at him. “What?”  
“Usually, when you wake up, I wake up, too. Just from your rustling around, right?”

Rafael scoffed. “No way. You sleep like a log in the mornings.”

Sonny shrugged. “I fall back asleep quickly. But there’s always a moment when I see you, getting ready, trying to be quiet. And I never told you that you wake me up because I didn’t want you to feel bad.”

“You’re too sweet.” Rafael rolled his eyes and then resumed their embrace.

Sonny continued, “But since I got home, you don’t wake me up anymore. At first, I thought it was the drugs, but then I realized” --he took a shaky breath, regaining his composure-- “that I can’t hear you anymore. My one good ear isn’t enough to hear you quietly scurrying around.” He swallowed. “It made me sad. I got tears in my eyes when I woke up and the first thing I saw today wasn’t you. Is that stupid?”

“No baby, it’s not,” Rafael replied. Sonny sniffed. “Do you want me to be louder?” he asked, looking up again, and Sonny laughed.

* * *

“Rollins, I don’t know if you should come,” Rafael said into his phone. “It’s not a good day. He’s not like he was the last time you saw him.

“What do you mean? Is he all quiet again?” Amanda said back.

Rafael glanced to where Sonny was sitting on the couch, staring at the wall. “Yeah. He’s catatonic. Worse than the first time, I think.”

“I can handle him, Barba, trust me. You need a night out. You’re wearing yourself too thin.”

“I don’t know…” Rafael said, running a hand through his still-wet hair. He had just gotten out of the shower and started getting dressed for dinner with his friend Rita when he realized Sonny was in a state. Sonny had been doing very well physically and was becoming more independent walking and doing tasks around the house. Rafael had thought that the mental symptoms would be going away, but this was now the fourth bout of catatonia. The first episode was only a week and a half ago.

“Listen. I can wrangle around two little kids; I can handle a quiet Carisi. I’m coming over whether you like it or not.”

Rafael sighed and agreed. He knew Amanda couldn’t be stopped, regardless of his arguments. He hadn’t been out, truly _out_ , with a friend just catching up, since the accident. He suspected that there was some coordination between Rita and his other friends, especially because Amanda was very quick to offer to stay with Sonny. He needed this; he needed the break. He had also returned to work, part-time, this week, and he was in need of a wind-down.

Half an hour later, there was a knock on the door. As Rafael made his way over, he glanced at Sonny, who was still on the couch. He didn’t move.

“Hey,” Amanda said. She raised up the bag of takeout she was holding. “I brought food.”

Rafael nodded and let her in. She set her belongings on the island counter and looked over to the living room. Sonny had yet to acknowledge her presence. Unfazed, she walked to the living area and sat on the coffee table, directly across from him.

“Hi, Carisi,” she said. “How are you?”

Nothing. Not even eye contact. She looked to Rafael for help, but he just shrugged his shoulders.

“I gave him a valium a little bit ago,” he supplied. “Last time it seemed to help.”

“Okay,” she said, standing up to join Rafael in the kitchen.

Rafael jumped into instruction mode, very much feeling like a distressed parent leaving a child with the babysitter for the first time.

“He’s very pliant when he’s like this. If you help him up, he’ll follow you. He won’t use the walker; it’s better just to guide him around. He might eat if you’re persuasive enough. When he comes out of it, he’ll probably be panicking. Remind him how to breathe.”

She raised a hand. “Barba, I’ve got it. Enjoy your night out.”

Reluctantly, he grabbed his wallet and keys and went over to Sonny.

“I’m going to dinner with Rita,” he reminded him. “We’re just going to Gianna’s, down the street.” Sonny continued to stare at the wall. Trying to mask his frustration, Rafael sighed and stuck a finger under Sonny’s chin, forcing him to make eye contact. “You can call me if you need anything. Amanda is here; I’m sure she’ll keep you both entertained.”

Sonny didn’t smile, but Rafael almost convinced himself there was a bit of contentment in his eyes.

“I’m meeting Rita at the restaurant,” he told Amanda. “Text me if he comes out of it, or if you need anything.”

“Barba, I’ve told you, I’ve got it.” She was putting together portions of the pad thai she brought.

“Okay. I’m leaving. Good luck.” He gave one last loving glance to Sonny before departing.

When the door shut behind him, Sonny jumped slightly and looked towards the source of the sound. Amanda noticed.

“He’ll be back soon,” she said, setting the made plates on the dining table. “For now, you’re stuck with me.” She walked around to stand in front of Sonny on the couch, grabbing his forearms. “C’mon. Up. It’s dinner time.”

To her surprise, he got up and allowed himself to be led to the table. Amanda urged him gently to sit in his seat. She sat across from him and started eating.

“I saw that loaf of bread on the counter. Who made it? Your mom?” she asked, twirling a noodle around her fork.

He didn’t speak, but he looked up and made eye contact.

“I’ll take that as a yes. Mind if I snag a piece?”

He blinked.

“Okay, I’ll get you one, too.” She stood and went back to the kitchen, unwrapping the loaf of rosemary focaccia from the plastic wrap and rummaging through the drawers for a knife. She pulled out a small, serrated one, the first one she could find, and sawed through the bread. She returned to the table with their servings.

After taking a bite, she said, “Wow, that’s good. Is this the recipe you use? No offense, but I think your mom does it better.”

The corner of Sonny’s mouth twitched ever so slightly. A smile?

“I know what you want to say.” In her best imitation of a Staten Island accent, she said: “Better than you can do, Rollins. When’s the last time you made something more complex than hamburger helper?”

Sonny inhaled sharply. It was almost a snort.

“Yeah, yeah, laugh it up. Now eat. Please.”

Again, to her surprise, Sonny picked up his fork and began to take small bites of his meal. He seemed to mirror what Amanda was doing; when she took a bite of the pad thai, he took a bite of the pad thai. When she ate some bread, he ate some bread. It was better than nothing, she supposed.

As they ate, Amanda allowed herself to look, really look, at her friend. His hair was long, almost shaggy, except in the spots where it had been shaved. His face, which had been sullen in the hospital, was beginning to fill out again, along with his torso and arms. His eyes were as clear and blue as ever, but behind them was something new. Some kind of pain, Amanda supposed, that she’d never understand. The last time she had seen him, just a few days ago, he seemed like his usual self: talkative, caring, and a little brash. She had seen him depressed; she had seen him so anxious that he could hardly move, but she had never seen him speechless and unresponsive like this.

To quell her nerves and hopefully bring Sonny back, she rambled on a story about her daughter and dog’s fingerpainting mishap. His mouth twitched occasionally throughout her story, and she could tell he was slowly trying to return.

* * *

“How are you doing, Rafael?” Rita asked when they finally sat down at a table tucked away in the corner of the restaurant.

He sighed and offered her a smile. “I’m good. I’m fine.” He fidgeted with his napkin before putting it in his lap.

Rita gave him a look. “Uh huh. Sure.”

Rafael rolled his eyes. “Sorry, I’m a bit distracted.”

“You’re always distracted, lately,” she said. “How many times have we had to reschedule this?” The bottle of wine they ordered arrived at the table, and she motioned for the waitress to generously fill their glasses.

“You can’t reschedule something if you never scheduled it in the first place.”

“You’re right, as always.”

“Don’t you forget it.” He smiled at her, raising his glass in a toast, and suddenly he was reminded of their law school days, and he let himself relax.

Their evening was spent eating delicious Mediterranean cuisine and gossiping about former classmates and intense cases and clients. Rafael updated her about his latest federal case- a millionaire running an illegal diamond trade- and Rita offered some tips for what she figured the defense would do. She had recently retired from her esteemed position as a defense attorney and was now working part-time at a firm specializing in medical malpractice.

“I missed being on the ‘right’ side,” she explained, a glass of wine in. “I know everyone is entitled to a proper defense, but you know as well as I do that most of the people I defended were pieces of shit. Now, I feel like I’m helping people again.”

“You could come work with me,” Rafael supplied. “I love my new job.”

She laughed. “I did my duties as a prosecutor, then worked for the dark side. I’ve found my calling.”

“About damn time!”

Halfway through their meal, Rita finally musted up the courage to ask. “How’s the boy toy?”

“Better every day,” he said, between bites. “Well, except for today.”

She frowned. “What happened today?”

Rafael put down his fork. “I don’t want to violate his privacy too much, but if you come over for a night cap, you’ll see it anyway,” he reasoned. “He’s been having… catatonic episodes.”

“What, like schizophrenia?” Her eyes widened.

“No, no… it’s a symptom of the trauma. At least that’s what his psychiatrist and neurologist say. People with brain injuries get all kinds of psychiatric problems, but they can’t pinpoint if and when it’ll change.”

“Is he in therapy?”

“Yeah, but that can’t treat the parts that are physical. This is the fourth time. They told me after the third that if it happens again, they’re gonna mix his meds up.”

Rita grabbed the bottle, silently asking Rafael’s permission to finish it. He nodded and she poured for herself. “It could be worse,” she said. “He could have… I don’t know… unquenchable bouts of rage.”

Rafael smirked. “You know how he is, though. I believe you called him, what was it, _painfully optimistic_?”

She chuckled. “Bubbly, too.”

“Right, bubbly,” he said through a smile. “He’s such a social person. When he doesn’t, or can’t, make eye contact, and just stares at the wall, it feels wrong.”

She set down her glass and grabbed her old friend’s hand. “I’m sorry, Rafa. As much as I joke, I know you care about him, and he cares about you. It’ll get better.”

He was squeezing her hand in thanks, fighting back misty eyes, when his phone rang. _Amanda Rollins_ , it read. He answered immediately.

“Barba,” she said, in a quiet detective voice. “You need to come back, ASAP. We have a problem.”

* * *

Amanda didn’t know how it happened. One second, Sonny was standing next to her, drying the dishes after she washed, occasionally glancing around instead of at the wall, and the next, he was backed up against the refrigerator, holding the serrated knife outwards.

“Sonny!” she gasped. “What are you doing?”

There was no response. Just painful breaths. He stared down at the knife, tightening his grip, pointing it not at her, but at some invisible enemy.

She took a deep breath, trying not to panic, and brought out her firm, police officer tone. “Carisi. Put down the knife.”

He didn’t stop staring at it, examining it, like he had never seen anything like it. He was still standing in an offensive position, as if he had his gun drawn.

She tried to implement her training. She ran through her list of options. She could grab the knife, but she didn’t know how Sonny would respond. She could tackle him, but he was already backed against something, and who knew where that sharp knife would end up. There was also a head injury she didn’t want to make worse. She cursed herself for ever letting him handle it. She knew he wasn’t in his right mind.

“Sonny, sweetheart, put down the knife,” she nearly begged. She held up her hands in surrender.

They stood like that, in limbo, for a solid minute. Sonny’s hand shook ever so slightly, but he still looked at the knife, then at his invisible oppressor, then at the knife again. Amanda was out of options. Here was a man, going through psychiatric problems, who was skinny and weak but still a good deal larger than her, wielding a deadly weapon. She ignored every instinct to treat him like a perp and called Barba instead.

Rafael burst into the apartment not ten minutes later, Rita trailing behind. She insisted on joining, in case they needed extra help. Rafael didn’t resist.

He was met with a scene he never could’ve conjured. At first, he only saw Amanda, standing in the kitchen with her hands up, almost squatting. Then, he found Sonny, who was nearly slumped against the refrigerator, holding a knife. He rushed over as fast as he could, practically pushing Amanda out of the narrow kitchen.

“Sonny,” he squeaked out, his throat suddenly dry. “Look at me.” He mimicked Amanda’s posture of submission and tried to appear as open and loving as possible. He knew, deep in his bones, that Sonny would never willingly hurt him.

Amazingly, Sonny did look at him, his eyes full of tears. Rafael couldn’t imagine the kind of pain he was in or the terrors he was seeing. He looked back at the knife.

“Sonny, baby, I love you. You need to put down the knife for me, okay?” His voice was shaking. He could feel Amanda and Rita watching, waiting to intervene in case something drastic happened.

The knife lowered ever so slightly, and Rafael released a preemptive sigh of relief. Then, Sonny looked at his left forearm, bare in his rolled-up sweatshirt from dishwashing, and then back at the knife. He slowly brought the knife so that is was flush against the pale skin, but not cutting into it.

“No!” Rafael practically yelled.

Sonny looked up again, and finally seemed to be seeing. “Rafi?” he whispered, blinking back tears.

“Yeah Sonny. It’s me. Look at me, it’s Rafi. I need you to put the knife down for me, okay?”

Sonny stopped listening. He stared at the knife, running the dull side back and forth against his arm, softly. Rafael felt Amanda creep up behind him as he continued his babbling pleads.

“Put it down, honey. Listen to me. Don’t do this—”

For half a second, Sonny’s face was as tragically sad and conflicted as Rafael had ever seen. At the next half-second, he took the knife and slashed through the top of this left forearm.

In a flash, Amanda was on him, pushing him down on his side and taking the knife. Rafael wasn’t sure if he screamed. Sonny began to sob, loudly, and tried to thrash around, but Amanda didn’t let him. Rafael joined them on the ground and grabbed the injured arm. It didn’t seem to be cut too deeply, but it was bleeding.

“Get me a towel, Rita,” he commanded through gritted teeth. Rita complied, handing him one, which he wrapped around the cut. He held firm pressure, against Sonny’s squirms.

Amanda shifted so that she was mostly holding down the lower part of Sonny’s body, including his kicking legs.

“We’re gonna hold him down like this until he settles,” Amanda told Rafael. He nodded, continuing to hold pressure.

Sonny didn’t settle easily, and Rafael felt his heart shatter with every sob. He tried to thrash and kick, but they held him down firmly. Rita was unsure what to do until Sonny started to violently move his head, trying to hit it against something. She jumped in quickly next to Rafael and cradled Sonny’s skull gently but firmly.

“Stop! No!” Sonny wailed repeatedly, tears streaming down his cheeks. 

Eventually, when the sobs quieted to soft cries, Amanda eased up on her restraint. As he sniffled, the three of them shifted Sonny so that he was sitting up, leaning against the kitchen cabinets. When he was sure he wouldn’t protest, Rafael unwrapped Sonny’s arm and inspected the wound. It was a long scrape, but it wasn’t much deeper than a paper cut or a cat scratch. It didn’t look like Sonny was able to push down as hard as they'd all feared.

“I don’t think it needs stitches,” Amanda supplied, confirming Rafael’s thoughts.

He nodded, then turned to Rita. “Can you get the first aid kit out of the medicine cabinet?”

Sonny was quiet, but Rafael could tell that he wasn’t catatonic anymore. With his uninjured hand, he wiped the tears from his face.

“Sonny,” Rafael sighed, forcing eye contact.

Sonny avoided his gaze, embarrassed. “I don’t know what happened,” he croaked, his voice weak from his shouts. “I thought… he was there… I’m sorry.”

Rafael didn’t know what to say, so he stroked Sonny’s hair before allowing Sonny to fall into him, tucking his head under his chin. When the first aid kit appeared, Amanda tended to the cut, cleaning it before taping on a long piece of gauze. Sonny didn’t look at her or the injury. When she finished, she looked to Rafael, who continued to cradle Sonny in his arms. She wanted to talk, to reprimand. Rafael gave her a glare, and she kept her mouth shut. Rafael felt Sonny start to fall asleep against his chest, the valium finally fully kicking in. He coaxed him up.

“Let’s get you to bed,” he stated, and Sonny nodded, standing up with minimal support. Rafael guided him to the bedroom under Rita and Amanda’s watchful gazes. Without speaking, he tucked Sonny into bed, wrapping the blankets tightly around him. Sonny was knocked out as soon as his head hit the pillow. Still feeling the gaze of the women, Rafael returned to the kitchen.

“Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t bring him to Bellevue for a 48-hour hold,” Amanda snapped, almost failing to keep her voice down. She was angry, but she couldn’t hide her sadness behind her scowl. _What had happened to her friend?_

Rafael ran a hand over his face, completely overwhelmed. “I don’t know,” he mumbled. He sat and put his head in his hands. “I just don’t know.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Summary: While drying dishes and starting to come out of a catatonic state, Sonny has some kind of psychiatric episode (PTSD? We don't know yet) in which he sees an oppressor and points a small knife at Amanda. Later, when Amanda calls Rafael home, Sonny breaks down and cuts himself with the knife. He only manages to give himself a mild scrape on his forearm. Rafael, Amanda, and Rita restrain Sonny as he comes back to himself.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW: Knife, mild gore(?) during a dream. Skip over the portion in italics if you don't want to read. All you need to know is that a character has a nightmare. 
> 
> See end notes for some of my commentary :)

Chapter 7

in honor and dishonor, in ill repute and good repute.

We are treated as impostors, and yet are true;

as unknown, and yet are well known;

as dying, and see—we are alive; as punished, and yet not killed;

as sorrowful, yet always rejoicing; as poor, yet making many rich;

as having nothing, and yet possessing everything.

_2 Corinthians 6:8-10_

The first thing Sonny noticed when he woke up was that the bed was cold. He unraveled himself from the sheets, which were tucked around him tightly. It was clearly Rafael’s handiwork, but his side of the bed was empty and undisturbed. Had he not slept there last night? Where was he?

He allowed himself to wake up a bit more, stretching his legs and neck, ignoring the dull ache in his head that he now accepted as normal. He stretched his arms and was met with more pain. He looked to his left forearm, which was covered with gauze.

Last night’s events rushed back to him all at once, and the memory stole the breath from his lungs. He hunched over, nearly putting his head between his legs, as the thoughts ravaged through him. _How the hell did that happen? What was I trying to do? Why couldn’t I speak?_ Fear pulsed through his veins, but not in a panicky way. It felt like he had just awoken from a terrible nightmare that he couldn’t remember.

As if sensing his distress, Rafael sauntered softly into the bedroom, mug of coffee in hand. He blinked in surprise when he saw Sonny, awake and aware.

“You’re up,” he stated, setting his coffee on his bedside table and sitting on his side of the bed, finally ruffling the comforter.

“Yeah,” Sonny replied, and, seeking consolation but not sure how comfortable Rafael would be, grabbed his hand.

Rafael swallowed and looked down at the bandaged arm holding his. “Do you remember what happened last night?”

He shrugged. “Kind of. I remember that I freaked out.”

“You could say that,” Rafael murmured. He met Sonny’s eyes, and Sonny nearly started crying when he saw the sadness behind them. Rafael smiled in his soft, loving way, and ran his fingers through his boyfriend’s bedhead.

“Rafael,” Sonny said, unsure. “Did I… cut myself last night?” he whispered.

Rafael nodded and cleared his throat. “Yes. I don’t know how to describe what happened, Sonny. You were not yourself. I don’t know if it was a flashback or a… psychotic episode… or whatever. But you’re seeing Dr. Barrera today. Your appointment is in an hour.”

“Oh,” was all Sonny could respond.

Rafael scoffed. “You’re lucky. Rollins was ready to have you committed at Bellevue. Luckily, Rita and I were able to…”

“Wait,” Sonny interrupted. “What?”

Rafael met Sonny’s gaze, very seriously and solemnly. “Sonny, it was bad,” he whispered. “Really bad.”

“I can hardly remember what happened,” he supplied. “It feels a bad dream.”

Rafael nodded. “I was so scared,” he choked out. “You probably noticed, but I slept on the couch last night. I wasn’t sure if you’d wake up and I’d be unable to… _control_ you.” A few tears freely ran down his cheeks, and Sonny reached over to wipe them away. He pulled Rafael to him, mirroring their position from last night.

“I’m so sorry, Rafi, but I’m here now. I feel fine. I feel normal.”

They sat together for a few moments, only letting up when Rafael decided it was time to get ready for Sonny’s appointment. Their morning routine proceeded normally, even with a few flirtatious jokes here and there. Sonny certainly seemed back to normal, Rafael reasoned, but he couldn’t help but feel that it was only temporary, that they’d be living on the brink of another episode for a long time to come.

* * *

Rafael sat in the waiting room of Sonny’s psychiatrist’s office, tapping away at his phone. Fortunately, it was Saturday, so he didn’t have to work, and it was also fortunate that Dr. Barrera worked on the weekends. This was not Rafael’s first time here; he had picked up Sonny once after an appointment to go to dinner about a year ago. Sonny had trouble opening up about his mental health issues, but with the encouragement of Rafael, Liv, and everyone else, he had finally sought help. It took a while to find a good medication for him, but the SSRI he was currently taking had managed to lessen his daily nervousness and anxiety-induced bouts of vomiting. Rafael grimaced, remembering when he and Sonny first moved in together and he was introduced to Sonny’s pre-work puking routine. He had come a long way.

Until now. Until a stupid, random hit to the head set him backwards into a place no one ever wants to go.

“Rafael?” Dr. Barrera said, poking his head out of the door and into the waiting room.

“Yes?” He put his phone in his pocket and prepared to stand.

“Why don’t you join us, now?” the doctor asked, his kind face full of empathy and understanding. Rafael followed him into the adjoining room. He took a seat next to Sonny on the couch, who offered him a small smile. It didn’t look like he’d been crying, which was a good sign. Rafael took his hand as a show of support.

“So,” Dr. Barrera continued, sitting in his chair and checking his notes. “Based on what you told me over the phone and what Sonny and I have been discussing, I’m fairly certain he experienced a trauma-induced psychotic episode last night.”

Rafael tried to hold in his gasp, and squeezed the hand holding his instead. Sonny just looked at his shoes. 

“PTSD after a head trauma is common, and you’ve been experiencing worsening psychiatric symptoms since the first days in the hospital.” Dr. Barrera looked at his patient. “I know the word ‘psychotic’ is scary, but with the catatonia and the unpredictable nature of the episode, it’s the way we’d describe it. Obviously, you’re out of it now, but I can’t say with complete confidence that it won’t happen again.”  
He turned to Rafael. “Sonny has never disclosed to me that he’s had a desire to harm himself, and I believe him. Also, we’ve never discussed him having violent tendencies. That’s a bit concerning, because we’re seeing problems we’ve never seen before.”

“It was like he was a completely different person,” Rafael supplied, turning to his boyfriend. “It was like he was… overcome with something.”

“Thus, the term psychotic episode,” the doctor said. “We’ve been over a few treatment options, and I think we’ve settled on the best one, but Sonny told me he wants to know your opinion.”

Sonny nodded, urging the psychiatrist to continue.

“First, we’re going to try a low-dose anti-psychotic drug that he’ll need to take daily. I’ll also refill the Valium prescription at a higher dose, in case of emergency. From what you told me, it seemed to work to calm him down, but it didn’t act fast enough.”

Rafael gulped, thinking about another medication that Sonny would have to take.

“While medication should help, I also want Sonny to receive extensive psychological care and counseling. I’m going to recommend an outpatient program at NYU specifically for TBI patients with psychiatric issues.”

Before Rafael could interrupt with a million questions, Dr. Barrera reached over to his printer and pulled out a paper that had been freshly printed.

“Here’s a short description of the program. I know the lead psychiatrists very well, and I trust them and their decisions. Plus, because it’s through NYU, participation is fully funded as a part of their research.”

They let that sink in for a minute, and then Rafael asked, “How often would he have to go?”

“Because it’s an outpatient program, patients can come up to four times a week. The program revolves around group therapy, individual therapy, and medicine adjustments. After his first appointment with them, they’ll determine how often he should come in.”

“Has the program been successful?” Sonny asked, the first thing he said in a while. “For other people, I mean.”

Dr. Barrera smiled softly. “From what I’ve been told, yes. There’s no doubt that being hit in the head messed your brain chemistry up, but with extensive treatment like this, there’s hope that you can combat it faster than you would on your own.”

“I want to do this, Rafael,” Sonny said, facing him. “I want to get better. I know it’s a lot, and it’s going to be hard to work this out between physical therapy, and occupational therapy, and getting back to work, but I want to get better. I _need_ to get better. I—”

“Stop, Sonny,” Rafael interjected. He was saddened that Sonny could think he’d be anything but supportive. “Of course, we’ll try it. Anything you need. We’ll make it work.”

* * *

That following Tuesday, Rafael was able to duck out of the office early and made it to the front door around 4 PM. As he rummaged around for his key, he overheard voices coming from inside.

“See, you’re doing it!” a woman’s voice exclaimed. Julia, the occupational therapist.

Then, a few mumbles of concentration from Sonny, and the sound of the shuffling of feet.

Rafael chuckled softly before opening the door. Waiting for him was Sonny, strolling down the hallway like he owned the place. Julia stayed close but had given him some room.

“Rafi, look!” Sonny said, meeting his eyes with a wide smile. He stopped abruptly, causing Julia to quickly grab his arm. “I’m fine, I’m fine,” he mumbled to her.

“Looking good, babe,” Rafael replied, unable to hide his returning smile. He shrugged off his suit jacket and leaned against the wall, ready to watch.

“Okay, okay. Back off, Julia!” he joked. She obeyed and stepped back, laughing. Sonny turned around on his heel and walked down the hall, away from them. Then, he turned on his heel again, with dramatic slowness, and strutted towards him. He seemed to be emanating his inner super model. Rafael barely managed to stifle his tears of joy.

Instead, he was about to wolf whistle, until Sonny stumbled just slightly and grabbed a side table to steady himself. His smile faltered but didn’t go away completely.

“And that’s where this comes in, Tyra Banks,” Julia said, producing a black aluminum cane and putting it in Sonny’s hands. He took it, let go of the table, and leaned against the cane instead. After taking a deep breath, he looked up and walked to Rafael. He was able to walk independently, but the cane was there in case he needed it.

“What do you think?” he asked, running his free hand along Rafael’s shoulder.

“I think you’re amazing, cariño.”

“Yeah? It’s not too much of a pimp cane, is it?” he asked, glancing to Julia and back at Rafael.

Rafael chortled. “I don’t think so. It’s not blinged-out enough. We could get you one, if you wanted. I think you’d look nice in a purple velvet suit.” He stepped closer to Sonny and put his hands flat against his chest.

Julia approached, checking her watch. “I’ve got to get to my next appointment. Good job today. Remember to keep doing those grip exercises we practiced.” With a smile, she was out the door.

“Grip exercises?” Rafael asked with a suggestive perk of his brow.

Sonny laughed, full-blown and deep, tossing his head back. “Not like that. I’m supposed to practice holding pencils and writing and stuff, so that we’re sure I can continuously hold the cane.” As if on cue, his right hand shook involuntarily, and the cane nearly toppled before he managed to catch it.

“But maybe,” Sonny continued, going to the couch, leading Rafael by the hand. Once he sat down, he gently pulled Rafael down so that he was straddling his lap. “There’s something else I can grip.”

“Yeah?” Rafael whispered, leaning in close, licking his lips.

“Yeah.” And Rafael kissed him through his smile.

* * *

“Are you nervous?” Rafael asked the next morning. They were sitting in the back of a cab, holding hands, on their way to Lower Manhattan for Sonny’s first day at the outpatient program.

“Yes,” Sonny answered quickly. Rafael was surprised; usually Sonny wasn’t so forthcoming about his emotions. “I guess I don’t know what to expect. I also keep doubting myself, trying to tell myself I don’t need it anymore, considering I haven’t had a, uh” he paused, pursing his lips, “an _episode_ since the bad one.” He subconsciously rubbed his hand against the cut on his forearm, now unbandaged and scabbing over.

“I’m sure that if you don’t need it, they’ll let us know,” Rafael said. He didn’t really need to see Sonny off; they were told that when they arrived at the facility, someone would be there to help him in. He was curious, though, and it wasn’t too out of the way on his commute to work. He could also sense Sonny’s nervousness from a mile away.

They arrived at the unassuming building on NYU’s medical campus, and, as promised, there was a woman dressed in snappy casual ready to take Sonny up. Then, he was gone, cane in hand, leaving Rafael to wave goodbye.

* * *

_They were in the alley again, and Rafael was screaming. The man held the baseball bat and the deafening crack rattled his ears repeatedly. Crack. Crack. Crack. It didn’t stop._

_“Go away!” Rafael shrieked, and finally, finally, the man fled._

_He knelt to Sonny, who was crumpled up in a ball. He was bleeding. Oh my god, he was bleeding. Blood was everywhere, red and thick, and Rafael put his hand against his head to try to stop it. There were sirens. Flashes of red lights. Rafael lifted his hand, and with it came a piece of Sonny’s skull. He could see his brain._

_“Rafael,” Sonny said, clear as day. “Why did you let me go?”_

_“I tried, I tried,” he whispered back. He started to put his hand back, replace the piece of skull, but Sonny sat up. His eyes were empty, pupils dilated, and blood streamed out of his ear._

_“I’m ruined. I’ll never be the same.” A knife, a giant, serrated machete appeared in his hands. Rafael saw his reflection in it. Sonny held the knife towards himself, towards his stomach, ready to plunge. He took a deep breath… he was going to do it… he couldn’t stop him…_

“Rafael,” came a stern voice.

He shot up. He was shaking and his cheeks were wet. Sonny was already up, his hands on Rafael’s back.

“Bad dream?” he asked, continuing his ministrations, but not getting too close.

Rafael nodded.

“I’m sorry I woke you, but you were sobbing, honey, and thrashing…”

“Don’t,” Rafael said. He wasn’t used to nightmares he could remember, and he was afraid that if he looked at Sonny, he’d only see the hollow eyes from his dream.

Sonny wasn’t having it. “Let me hold you,” he said, laying back down. Rafael was forced to turn to him.

It was just Sonny. Sonny, wrapped up in their comforter, shirtless because he ran hot at night. His hair was all over the place; it desperately needed cut. His arms were out, open, ready for him.

After a second, Rafael acquiesced. He lay his head on Sonny’s chest and snuggled up close. Sonny sighed in contentment, squeezing his arms tight around him and softly petting his hair.

“Do you want to talk about it?” he asked.

“No.”

“Okay, we won’t talk about it.” They laid in silence for a minute, and Rafael felt his heart rate come back down to normal, no doubt lulled there by his boyfriend’s own steady beat.

“Sonny?” he said quietly.

“Yeah?”

“I love you,” Rafael whispered. “No matter what, I love you.”

He could feel Sonny’s small smile. “I love you, too. More than anything. I’m here.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun fact: outpatient programs (not strictly psychiatric) for people with TBIs do exist! I don't know if NYU has one, but this is fiction, after all. Also, I don't know if it would be "paid for because of research," but a girl can dream, right?  
> I think it's important to note that when going through the aftermath of a trauma, there are ups and downs, and I try to illustrate that by juxtaposing the good moments with the bad moments. Rafael (and later, Sonny's family members and Amanda) is not unaffected by what happened.   
> P.S.: I'm not a doctor, and I don't write smut (can't, really, too much repressed Catholic shame) but I don't think that Sonny is medically ready, at this point, to do the deed just yet. But you can interpret the "grip" joke and fade to black however you want ;)


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

the war horse is a vain hope for victory,

and by its great might it cannot save.

Truly the eye of the Lord is on those who fear him,

on those who hope in his steadfast love,

to deliver their soul from death,

and to keep them alive in famine.

_Psalm 33:17-19_

“C’mon Bella, hurry up,” a distinct voice said from behind the front door. Rafael perked up from where he sat on the couch, highlighter in hand, going over a brief. He was home blessedly early, even for a Friday.

“Calm your tits, Sonny,” Bella’s voice responded. The lock clicked, and the two siblings came through the door. Bella, carrying a bag of groceries, followed by Sonny, carrying another bag and using his cane every few steps to stabilize himself.

“Hey Rafi,” he said, setting the grocery bag down and making his way to the couch. He lost his balance just as he made it to Rafael but tried to hide it by flopping on the couch. He threw his arms around Rafael, laughing.

Rafael chuckled in response. “Hola, _tonto_. Did you have a good day?”

Sonny grinned, then pulled a piece of paper out of his pocket and handed it to Rafael.

“What is this?” he asked, unfolding it. Printed inside were images of a brain, and Rafael recognized them instantly as being from a CT scan.

“Notice anything?” Sonny asked, still smiling.

“I’m not a doctor, Sonny, but I’m guessing it’s good news?”

Sonny’s smile got wider, if that was possible. “Yes! My skull fractures are almost completely healed!” He pointed along the ridge of his skull in the picture, and, sure enough, it was nearly smooth and normal. Rafael had tried as hard as possible to get the “before” image out of his head, but he could tell it was much better than it was when the accident happened, nearly two months ago.

“That’s great, baby,” Rafael said before pressing a soft kiss on his lips.

“Gross,” Bella murmured from across the apartment.

“Thank you for taking him,” Rafael said, looking at her. “I owe you one.”  
“It’s no problem,” she replied, approaching them.

“Justice waits for no one,” Sonny added, wiggling his eyebrows. Rafael had been stuck in meetings all day due to an impending trial that the defense attorneys couldn’t possibly delay any more. It was due to start next week.

Bella rolled her eyes. “Dr. Adarsh was impressed with his progress.”

Sonny waved her off. “For the most part. The vertigo test didn’t go well. I still feel like I’m on a boat or something.”

“I could tell,” Rafael said. He had noticed Sonny’s slight sway from the moment he came in the door. The flop on the couch had confirmed it. “Did she say anything about your… psychological symptoms?” 

Sonny and Bella shared a look. “It’s more of the same,” he finally said. “She told me that brain injuries are tricky and to keep doing what I’m doing and hopefully things will get better.”

“She _said_ to keep being patient and keep going to therapy,” Bella added. She ruffled her brother’s hair, which had finally gotten cut earlier in the week. “Do you guys need anything before I go?”

“Nope, we’re good,” Sonny replied quickly.

“All right; see you on Monday!” she exclaimed with a wave as she left the apartment.

“What’s Monday?” Sonny asked quietly, confusion on his brow.

Rafael tried to conceal his sigh. He had definitely told Sonny several times already. “It’s Labor Day. We’re going to your parents’ cookout.”

“That’s right,” Sonny said. His face portrayed realization, but Rafael wasn’t convinced. Sonny scooted closer, resting his head on Rafael’s shoulder.

Rafael wrapped an arm around him. “How was the program today?”

That’s what they called it— _the program_. When he started over a week ago, the psychologists determined that he should come in three times a week, from the morning until lunchtime. Sonny’s medical leave had been extended for another month, and even without the psychiatric symptoms, his bouts of vertigo, confusion, and memory problems would prevent him from working.

“Fine,” Sonny replied, nuzzling into his shoulder. “Group therapy still makes me sad.”

“Why?”

“There’s this one lady who was shot in the head, I think, 15 years ago? I told you about her. She gets excruciating panic attacks whenever she hears a loud noise. Classic PTSD. But she’s been dealing with it for _over a decade_.” He looked up at Rafael with watery eyes. “What if that happens to me, Rafi? What if I have to deal with whatever this is for… forever?”

Rafael frowned and pulled Sonny close. “First of all,” he started, “everyday you’re getting better, mentally and physically. You’ve only had one catatonic episode in the past two weeks, and it wasn’t even that bad.”

“But—”

“No buts,” he scolded. “Everyone loves you, Sonny. Everyone is going to do everything they can to help you. I know you know that. We’re going to keep working at it. You’re still _you_ , babe.”

“I’m not sure I’m ready to see all my family at once this weekend,” Sonny whispered.

Rafael was confused. Sonny loved his family. “Why?”

“It’s gonna be… a lot,” he said with an awkward chuckle.

“It will be okay,” Rafael responded, pulling away. “I’ll try to protect you.”

Sonny laughed. “Isn’t it funny that I used to be the one that protected _you_ from Carisi family gatherings?” Rafael laughed with him.

* * *

They arrived at the Carisi family home early, per Mama Carisi’s request.

“I just want to spend some extra time with my son!” she had said over the phone to Sonny. Rafael had also been updating her on Sonny’s progress and suggested that he have a little time to settle before the rest of the family came. Sonny had been on-edge with nervous energy all weekend, and Rafael was afraid he’d crash sooner rather than later.

Sonny used his free hand to knock on the door of the modest suburban house. Immediately, raucous barking sounded from inside, and Dominick Carisi, Senior opened the door to reveal himself and the loyal family dog, Fido.

“Sonny!” the older man exclaimed, enveloping his son into a bear hug. While they hugged, Fido pranced over to Rafael, sniffed him, and immediately laid on his back for a belly rub. Rafael smiled and obliged the old German Shepherd. He was generally a friendly dog, but for reasons Rafael would never understand, Rafael was one of his favorite guests, after Sonny. Once Sonny was released from his father’s grip, Fido got up and began to jump with excitement.

“Rafael!” Dom then said before pulling him in for a hug. The Carisis were huggers, that much was obvious, but over time, Rafael became more accustomed to it.

They were ushered inside and found themselves in the kitchen, the hearth of any Italian home. Sonny’s mom embraced them both with kisses to their cheeks.

“Ma, c’mon, enough,” Sonny huffed after his mother went in for a second hug.

“Hey, can you blame me?” the petite woman responded, looking into her son’s eyes. “It’s good to see you. You’re looking better. Isn’t he, Rafael?”

Rafael nodded; Sonny was looking better since they had last seen him two weeks ago. His hair was coming in nicely, he wasn’t as pale, and he had finally started to gain some weight back. Sonny’s earlier nervousness seemed quelled for now; he was tucked into the safety and warmth of his childhood home.

“Do you need help with anything?” Rafael asked, noticing the cutting board of fruit that Mrs. Carisi had just abandoned. When they had talked earlier, Rafael had requested that they keep the talk about Sonny’s injuries to a minimum, especially when it came to therapy. Sonny wanted the gathering to be as normal as possible.

“No, no, no…” she uttered. “Come on outside, Dad’s about to grill up a storm and you can distract Fido from beggin’ for scraps.” She opened the screen door to the back deck.

Sure enough, Fido followed along and Sonny gave him some more scratches behind the ears. _Maybe we need a dog_ , Rafael thought, observing the tension leave his boyfriend’s body as he interacted with the animal. He filed that thought away for later.

“This chair is for you, Son,” Mrs. Carisi said, gesturing to one of the patio dining chairs. It looked like the rest, except it had a little cushion on it. Rafael watched Sonny stifle an eye-roll.

“Mom, I’m fine,” he placated. “I can sit in a regular chair.” Nevertheless, he appeased his mother by sitting in the special chair, leaning his cane against the outdoor dining table. Rafael sat next to him, and they played fetch with the dog until the burgers landed on the grill. Mr. Carisi kept the conversation light and casual and the other Carisi kids began to arrive.

Theresa and her daughter Mia were first, and while Sonny’s oldest sister tried to appear cool and impassive, Rafael could see tears in her eyes as she hugged her brother. Then came Gina, visiting from upstate, who couldn’t help but let the tears fall. She hadn’t seen Sonny since his first days in the hospital.

“It’s so good to see you,” she said with a sniffle.

Sonny grinned back at her. Rafael was surprised at this interaction, as Gina and Sonny were not the closest of siblings, being competing middle children.

“Stop,” Sonny said. “You cry, I cry, and we still have a whole cookout to get through.”

Finally Bella, the last Carisi sibling, arrived with her husband and two kids in tow. Macy, who was four, ran to her Uncle Sonny and looked to jump into his lap before her mother stopped her.

“Gentle, Macy, remember,” Bella reprimanded. She was holding Enzo, who had just turned one, and who immediately started squealing with delight when he saw Rafael.

“Come here, kid,” Sonny said with a smile, pulling the now-nervous girl into his lap. He kissed her cheek and pulled her pigtails, and she quickly settled to her normal self.

Meanwhile, Rafael stood to wave at Enzo, who squirmed against his mother. “Give me that child,” Rafael said to Bella, and she obliged with a laugh. Rafael didn’t know why this baby liked him so much, but as Enzo giggled and tugged on his beard, he couldn’t be happier.

Slowly but surely, the cookout found its way to becoming a typical Carisi family function. Food and drink were consumed and gossip from Ma’s book club to Gina’s ex-fiance were brought up in loud conversation. Hands gesticulated everywhere, and even Sonny managed to eke out a passionate story and he accidentally knocked over a water glass with his excited hand motions.

Once the delicious tiramisu was served, Sonny began to get quieter, and Rafael could tell he was beginning to retreat inwards. He was doing a good job of hiding it: smiling and even adding a comment when appropriate. He would soon need a moment away from all the excitement.

Macy shot up out of her chair after finishing her dessert and made her way to her favorite uncle. “Uncle Sonny!” she exclaimed, jumping up and down. She grabbed a dog toy, and Fido trotted over from his begging spot under the table. “Let’s play!” She patted his thigh repeatedly.

Sonny gave her a tired smile. “Maybe in a minute, sweetheart—”

“Macy!” Bella yelled from across the table. “Uncle Sonny doesn’t want to play right now. I’m sure Mia will play with you…” she gave her niece a pleading look.

Macy looked back and forth from her mother, her cousin, who stood up to kindly comply, and Sonny. Her lower lip began to wobble, and her eyes welled up. She was definitely confused and upset; Uncle Sonny loved to play with her, but now Uncle Sonny was hurt and didn’t want to play. Before the four-year-old could start to wail, the darkening sky released a low rumble of thunder.

“There’s a sign,” Mr. Carisi laughed. “Everybody inside!”

* * *

Somehow, Sonny and Rafael ended up squished together on the loveseat, with Enzo dozing softly against Rafael’s chest. Enzo never let Rafael out of his sight, and when Rafael settled into the couch, he crawled his way up and let himself succumb to a post-meal nap. All Rafael could do was accept it, much to Sonny’s quiet delight. Rafael smiled at him and grabbed his hand, careful not to disturb the sleeping toddler.

The Carisi parents put up a slideshow of their travels in Asia and presented it with comedic enthusiasm. Now that there was less energy focused on him, Sonny didn’t need to speak. Rafael was afraid he was slipping dangerously close to catatonia; he watched as the periods when Sonny was staring at nothing became longer than those when he paid attention to the commotion.

They were just getting to the photos of Japan when Rafael made eye contact with Bella and gave her a head nod to summon her over. She snuck around and squatted next to the loveseat, amid the inharmonious laughter from the family after a joke about Mr. Carisi’s chopstick mishaps.

“Want me to take him?” Bella asked, gesturing to the baby.

“Yes, please.” Rafael handed him over, careful not to stir him.

“Hopefully he’s asleep enough to not cry without you,” she whispered.

“I’m going to take Sonny to the kitchen to get him some water,” Rafael stated. Bella glanced at her nearly catatonic brother, nodded, and then returned to her seat. Rafael rubbed Sonny’s back gently and managed to coax him up. He led him by the elbow to the kitchen, which was blessedly sectioned off from the noisy living room. Sonny sat down on an island barstool, on autopilot, watching Rafael like a puppy. Rafael found his jacket, and inside one of the pockets, a small bottle of pills.

“What are you feeling? Do you want one?” Rafael asked.

With Sonny’s nod, he took out a valium and set it in front of him with a glass of water. Sonny picked up the small pill, rolled it between his fingers, and put it in his mouth with a sip of water. It took him a moment to swallow-- long enough that Rafael feared he’d choke.

“Do you want to talk, or do you just want quiet?” Rafael asked. They were starting to get into the hang of these moments, and with the help of Sonny’s doctors and main therapist, they were figuring out how to help him through them. Sometimes, Sonny had flashbacks where he’d see the man from the alley and need Rafael to talk him back into reality. Other times, he just couldn’t bring himself to speak, and he didn’t know why. He just needed silence to quell the sensory overload.

“Quiet,” Sonny muttered. It was the latter. Rafael could work with that, especially if it meant Sonny wouldn’t be reaching for a weapon to ward off an invisible attacker. He sat next to his boyfriend and stole a sip of his water with a smirk. Sonny managed to smirk back.

“Are you two all right?” a soft voice asked. Sonny’s mother emerged from the laughter in the living room and stood at the island across from them. Fido was at her heels, until he saw Sonny, and then trotted over to rest his head on his knee.

“Yeah,” Rafael supplied. “Just needed a break.”

“I understand.” She nodded sympathetically. “It’s a lot.”

Sonny, scratching the dog’s head, looked up and said, “I’m all right, Ma.” His voice was raspy. “I think we should leave, though. This _is_ a lot.”

She looked like she was ready to argue, but stopped herself, probably remembering her conversations with Rafael and Bella about when Sonny was like this. She was pleased to see her son, with his normally functioning brain, for the past few hours. TBIs were complicated, so she had to take what she could get.

“Okay,” she said, “but let me pack up some tiramisu for you first.”

* * *

An hour and a half later, Sonny and Rafael were back at their apartment. Sonny went straight for the bed, managing to peel off most of his clothes on the way there. Rafael stowed the Tupperware container full of Italian dessert into the refrigerator, making it fit despite all the other gifted food they’d just started to make a dent in.

When he entered the bedroom, Rafael was met with Sonny, on his back on top of the covers, staring at the ceiling. He was surprised he wasn’t fast asleep, especially with the valium in his system and the day’s events settling over him. He had kept his energy up enough to say goodbye to the Carisi clan, so now Rafael expected him to crash hard. Of the two of them, Rafael was the insomniac, while Sonny could sleep through everything.

_Except brain trauma_ , Rafael thought to himself. He quickly got ready for bed and slipped in next to his boyfriend, pulling the comforter over the both of them. He lay on his side and stroked up and down Sonny’s bare chest, trying to relax him. He planned on staying up until his lover fell asleep, but Rafael was dozing within minutes, also exhausted from the day. He wouldn’t know that Sonny would be awake for a few more hours, staring at nothing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Listen, I couldn't pick a name for the Carisi family dog, so Fido it is.


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

O Lord, by these things people live,  
and in all these is the life of my spirit.  
Oh, restore me to health and make me live!

_Isaiah 38:16_

Sonny got out of the taxi and stepped into the bistro. He saw Amanda Rollins instantly; she was tucked into a corner table, her blonde hair framing her face as she sipped what appeared to be a cappuccino. He mumbled a “I’m meeting my friend” to the hostess with a point in her direction. He locked eyes with the detective and sauntered over, trying to hide his cane as much as possible.

“It’s good to see you, Sonny,” she said, standing up and hugging him, to his surprise.

“Hey, Rollins.” He hugged her back genuinely.

“Still got the cane with you?” she asked as they parted and sat down.

He sighed and leaned the sleek black apparatus against the table. “I’m getting a lot better, but I had an… incident last week, and Rafi is making me carry it,” he sputtered out.

“What kind of incident?” she asked with a raised brow.

“I uh, I fell,” he confessed, suddenly feeling like an 80-year-old man.

“Oh.” She brought her cup to her lips. “Are you all right?”

“Yeah, I’m fine, seriously. Just slipped in the hallway at home. Rafael overreacted.”

_In Rafael’s opinion, it wasn’t an overreaction at all. Sonny had been trying to ditch his cane more often, with a cautious acceptance from his physical therapists, and hadn’t been using it in the apartment. He had had to deal with it for three months, for Christ’s sake, couldn’t he walk independently in his own home? He was eager to bring a freshly baked cookie to his boyfriend who was lounging in the bedroom. In his haste, he slipped and fell forward in the hallway with an unceremonious thump._

_“Ah!” he grunted as he watched the delicious cookie slide across the hardwood floor._

_“Sonny? Are you all right?” Rafael called from the other room._

_Truthfully, Sonny didn’t feel great. The fall had sent a rush of blood to his head, and he felt dizzy. He couldn’t figure out if the dizziness caused the fall or if the fall caused the dizziness. While he thought about this, Rafael emerged from the bedroom and immediately gasped, kneeling next to his faceplanted partner._

_“Sonny!” Rafael shook his shoulder. “What happened? Should I call 911?”_

_Sonny’s eyes widened immediately, and he tilted his head to lock eyes with Rafael. “I’m fine,” he mumbled. He rolled over onto his back with a grunt. When he tried to sit up, Rafael held out a hand to stop him._

_“What happened?” he asked. “Don’t move yet, you could be hurt.”_

_Sonny sighed. “I’m fine, Rafi, I just fell.” His head was swimming._

_But Rafael was having none of it. After Sonny finally convinced him he didn’t need to go to the ER, that he had just slipped in his excitement, Rafael helped him get up and into their bed. Rafael gave him some medicine for the vertigo and lectured him about taking his cane everywhere until he was explicitly cleared by all of his therapists and doctors. Thus, the trusty cane was a steady accessory for now._

“Right. I’m sure he just overreacted.” Rollins rolled her eyes and sipped her drink. “By the way,” she pointed to the mug, “I was gonna order you one, but I wasn’t sure if you can have caffeine yet.”

Sonny smiled. “I can, actually, but no more than two cups a day.” He frowned at the cappuccino. “And no espresso.”

“That’s too bad,” she teased, finishing her drink. A waiter promptly arrived at their table and took their orders. Once he was off, Amanda started, tentatively, “I hear you’re going back to work next week.”

“Yeah, this coming Tuesday. I’ll only be doing half days though, in the afternoon, and going to my program or physical therapy in the mornings. I can’t do active case work, so-”

“Wait,” Amanda interrupted. “Why can’t you do active case work? What are you gonna be doing?”

“Because of the vertigo and the part-time status,” Sonny explained, “I’ll be working on re-examining cold cases and getting through some backlog. Dirty DA stuff.” He shook his head.

“Well, I miss working with you. Everyone does. Do you know ADA Smith-Cutler? God, she’s a bore. I don’t think she has any idea how police procedure works.”

“Isn’t she the one that looks like she’s twenty?”

“Yes! But she’s pregnant now—she has a husband, who knew? –so our cases are being passed all over the office. This one case I’m leading, it’s a pretty clear cut-and-dry back-alley rapist, but he’s pleading not guilty, and ADA _Jensen_ …” she spat out.

For the next forty-five minutes, while they ate their artisan sandwiches, Amanda filled Sonny in on all of the gossip he had missed. While he was excited to catch up, he couldn’t help but feel melancholy for the three months of his life that had been stolen from him. They would continue to be stolen from him, he realized, for who knows how long. He had no idea if or when he’d be inside a courtroom again. The thrill of prosecution that he fell in love with was whisked away so quickly. He wanted to be back taking down the bad guys, but that wasn’t easy if you had bouts of brain fog, vertigo, and flashbacks.

“So…” Amanda started after a beat. “How’s your brain?”

Sonny sighed. He knew this part of the conversation was coming. While she hid it well, he knew that the incident with the knife freaked her out. “I’ve been doing a lot better.” He stared at his hands, afraid to make eye contact. “I haven’t been, uh, catatonic in a long time, but I still get some flashbacks.”

“What happens in your flashbacks?” Amanda asked, quirking a brow.

“Can we not do this, please? I’ve been making really good progress, honest. You can ask my therapists; you can ask Rafael. I already have to talk about this crap with everyone else.” He looked her in the eyes. She had put down her fork and was listening intently, a slight blush to her cheeks. “Right now, I need you to be a _friend_. I know you’re trying to help, but can we please try to act somewhat normal?”

She fixed a piece of her hair, pensive. “You’re right,” she muttered. “I’m sorry. But I was so scared. Scared that we lost you, then relieved you were alive, but then scared you’d never be the same again.” Her eyes began to water.

He grabbed her hand, holding it across the table. “I know. I was scared, too, but we’re here now. I need your friendship and support now more than ever. I’ll be one hundred percent my old self before you know it.”

Later, Sonny strolled into his apartment from the cab. It was a beautiful fall Saturday, but he knew that Rafael was held up in the office. He preferred to work in a space outside of his home, and he was fervently preparing for a long-anticipated federal trial, which, finally, _for God’s sake these motions are getting tedious_ , began Monday. Rafael tried to be as calm as possible around Sonny, but Sonny could practically feel the stress radiating off of him.

Sonny slumped on the couch, happy for a moment of quiet after having to keep up appearances with Rollins for the afternoon. He grabbed Rafael’s tablet from the coffee table, weirdly craving a game of solitaire. He put in the passcode- his old badge number – and found himself on the website of a local jeweler. He blinked a few times, not believing his eyes. Typed in the search bar was “men’s engagement rings classy” and on the display was a beautiful platinum band.

Sonny audibly gasped and switched off the tablet. The detective in him wanted to snoop around, but the loving boyfriend knew he wasn’t supposed to have seen that. He grinned and leaned back further into the couch. Maybe things were turning around, after all.

* * *

That next Friday, Sonny sat in his tiny office, poring over a five-year-old case file. The handwriting was atrocious, worse than his during his first year as a detective, and deciphering it sentence by sentence was beginning to drive him nuts. The handwriting was messy, but the case was disastrous. The victims seemed credible, but the differing accounts of conversations from officers who were in the same room made the story hard to follow. Didn’t people talk to each other before writing their reports?

He rubbed his eyes and decided to take a gander at the framed photo on his desk. It was, of course, a photo of him and Rafael, taken about a year prior. He couldn’t remember what they were doing, but they were at some kind of event that required ties, although Sonny’s was generously loosened. Beers in hand, they were standing far too close to each other, smiling cheesily at the camera. Rafael had given him this framed picture when Sonny had gotten his own office. When Sonny questioned his photo choice, Rafael simply explained that it was to “remind him of goofier times.”

Three sharp taps on the door knocked him out of his stupor. “Come in,” Sonny replied, straightening out some papers, trying to look like he hadn’t been daydreaming.

“Hello, counselor,” Rafael said, strutting through the door, pastry box in hand. He shut the door behind him. “I hope it’s okay that I didn’t make an appointment.”

Sonny grinned, jokingly glanced at his desk calendar, and said, “I think I can squeeze you in.” He stood and hugged his guest before yanking the box from his hands. “What’s this?”

“You made it through your first week back,” Rafael chuckled. He leaned against Sonny’s desk. “I thought you deserved some cannoli, at least.”

“At least,” Sonny parroted, grabbing a pastry and taking a bite as he sat back down. “Wait,” he said suddenly. “Aren’t you supposed to be defending the integrity of our constitution or something?”

Rafael laughed before shrugging. “It’s Friday. Everyone wanted the weekend to come early, I guess.” He took a cannolo for himself.

“How was it today?” Sonny asked, wiping powdered sugar from his lips.

“It went well. I think we’re gonna win,” he responded way too humbly. “How is your day going?”

“Better, now. This case is a clusterfuck, literally. Worst part is this handwriting, though.” He flashed one of the papers for Rafael to see.

Rafael’s eyes widened. “Wow, that’s worse than yours.”

“That’s what I was thinking!”

Rafael laughed and then glanced at his watch. “It’s nearly five, when are you planning on…”

The loud _slam!_ of a door from down the hall made both of them jump. Sonny dropped his half-finished pastry into his lap, effectively getting powdered sugar everywhere. Rafael chuckled softly, saying “at least I won’t need a stress test for a while, Jesus.”

But Sonny wasn’t chuckling. He felt the room narrow and darken, the bright fluorescents fading and fading. All he could see was the back of the nameplate on the front of his desk. His lungs constricted. He couldn’t breathe. His heart was coming out of his throat, and he thought for sure he’d throw up. But he was frozen. They were coming for him. He heard the heavy steps coming down the hall, the sound of the baseball bat dragging behind him in the gravel. The slam of the door, over and over and over and—

“Sonny, can you hear me?” a voice through the fog asked softly. “Look at me. You’re safe. We’re in your office. It was just a door slamming.” The voice was closer, right in front of him, and something was stroking the sides of his arms. “It’s Rafael.” Rafael knew that Sonny needed that clarification sometimes, especially when he had tunnel vision. “Breathe with me.”

Slowly, Sonny started to come back to himself. First, he heard Rafael’s deep inhales and exhales and knew that he was supposed to mimic him. Once he did, his heart began to settle and his eyes came back into focus. He saw the framed photo, then he saw Rafael, squatting right in front of him. His eyes were kind and patient, and he had a tiny smile on his face when their eyes met.

“Oh my God,” Sonny gasped out, feeling almost completely normal again, albeit somewhat embarrassed. Rafael stood up.

“Are you gonna puke?” he asked, his hands still on Sonny’s shoulders. He looked around for the trash can. He knew that Sonny was usually extra woozy when he came down from adrenaline.

“No, no, I’m good,” Sonny replied, leaning back. Rafael went to get him a cup of water, still a bit worried about his pale coloring. “How long was that one?” Sonny asked.

“Only a few minutes.” Rafael handed him the cup. “You did a great job, honey. I’m proud of you.”

“Maybe this therapy shit really works,” Sonny joked weakly. He sipped the water. “That’s the first one I’ve had here.”

“And you handled it. You got through it.”

“Thanks to you.”

“Nah, you would’ve gotten out of it, yourself.”

Sonny rolled his eyes. “You helped a little.”  
“Okay, maybe a little.” Rafael looked at Sonny’s desk, at the mess of files and paperwork. He held out a hand. “Ready to call it a night?”

Sonny took one more deep breath before gathering some things into his briefcase. He took Rafael’s hand, smiling. “Yeah, let’s go.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's almost over, folks. I don't know why the formatting is weird on this one, but I hope it's still bearable.


	10. Chapter 10/Epilogue

Chapter 10

This battle is not for you to fight; take your position, stand still, and see the victory of the Lord on your behalf, O Judah and Jerusalem. Do not fear or be dismayed; tomorrow go out against them, and the Lord will be with you.

_2 Chronicles 20:17_

Slowly but surely, things got better. Sonny’s time in his program lessened; he went down to two days a week before Thanksgiving and was completely graduated by Christmas. While he had no “official” graduation, Rafael picked up Sonny from the medical center on his last day and took him out to a fancy dinner. Emotionally, Sonny was much sounder. His panic attacks were rare and when they did happen, he knew he had the tools to work through them. One of his therapists at the NYU program had called him a classic success story, and he let that comment give him confidence.

The hardest part of Sonny’s recovery, in Rafael’s eyes, was that physically, he’d never be the same. One of the biggest mental hurdles for Sonny was having to accept that occasional bouts of vertigo or unsteadiness would likely never go away, especially with his hearing imbalance. He saw an audiologist to see if his one-sided deafness could be fixed, but unless he wanted a cochlear implant, there wasn’t anything they could do. Every once in a while, Rafael would see Sonny trip over his own foot in the hallway, then huff in frustration, but then brush himself off, put his chin up, and continue what he was doing.

As Rafael watched Sonny get better- gaining weight, improving his memory, smiling more- he felt better, too. He stopped having nightmares about the accident. He even let Sonny take him for a walk towards where the attack happened. As they looked at that alley from across the street, six months later as it just began to snow, Sonny squeezed Rafael’s hand lovingly. _We made it through this_ , the squeeze said.

On that January night, once they were home, Rafael proposed.

“Yes, Rafi, _obviously_ ,” Sonny had said, but he teared up all the same.

On February first, Sonny stopped investigating cold cases and was allowed to return to accepting active cases with SVU. It took a bit of convincing to his superiors, and several doctors’ notes, but they let him back, on the condition that he wouldn’t go to trials until after a few months. Still, Sonny had never been happier. Even after he was called by Benson and Rollins about a rapist whose _modus operandi_ was to amputate a pinky toe as a trophy, he came home smiling. Not about the lost toes, of course, but because he was going to do everything he could to find justice for those girls.

* * *

Rafael practically snuck into the courtroom and took a seat as quietly as possible next to Amanda Rollins in the back row.

“You made it,” she whispered with astonishment.

“This thing distracted me,” Rafael huffed back, flashing a picture on his phone to her. In it was an eight-month-old wiry mutt, surrounded by the innards of what Amanda knew was Rafael’s favorite throw pillow. She laughed at the dog’s pitiful expression.

“I told you to adopt an older dog,” she chuckled.

“We were going to!” he insisted quietly. “But then Sonny saw this beast and the rest is history.”

When the room quieted, Rafael turned his attention to Sonny, sitting at the prosecutor’s desk, going through some papers. His cane sat horizontally in the chair next to him, strictly there for preventative purposes. He was understandably nervous, and when he got nervous, he got wobbly. This was biggest case of his career, and his first case that made it to trial since he had suffered from a traumatic brain injury almost exactly a year ago. He had had a few cases that made it close to the courtroom, and he was itching to get back in there, to present facts and make a jury believe him. By a weird stroke of fate, all of his cases in the past few months had pled out before opening statements. Except for this one.

“All right,” the judge stated as the clock ticked nine. “Counselors, are we ready to begin? This is a long time coming, especially after all your delays and appeals, Mr. Smith.” He locked eyes with the smarmy defense attorney.

With their yeses, the jury was called in. Rafael was both extremely nervous and extremely excited. He was so ready for Sonny to put this bastard in jail.

“Let’s hear opening statements,” the judge said.

Counselor Carisi stood up and approached the jury. No cane, no outward sign of anxiety, and not a hair out of place nor a wrinkle in his smart three-piece suit. He was as confident and suave as ever.

“Good morning, members of the jury…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woohoo! We did it, Joe. Yes, an abrupt ending, but I wanted to wrap things on the tenth chapter. You also might note that Barba and Carisi's dog doesn't have a name... I couldn't think of anything.  
> Anyway, I enjoyed writing this, and maybe one day I'll write something else in this universe. The case of the toe-snatching rapist, perhaps? We'll see.  
> Thanks for reading!!


End file.
